


The Spaces In Between

by GaryTheFish



Series: Hope is a Four Letter Word [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cameos! Cameos Everywhere!, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Loki - Canon Divergence, Odin's A+ Parenting, Origin Story, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Post-Thor (2011), Pre-Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 93
Words: 114,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaryTheFish/pseuds/GaryTheFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki fell, and Odin didn't catch him. He could have. He's the All-Father, after all. He could have saved him. Could have caught him, but instead he just stood there and watched his son-not-son tumble into the Void.</p><p>One year later, Loki is brought through a wormhole into SHIELD's dark matter lab, half a step this side of dead and with no memory of where he's been. The Realms are in chaos. Odin is expending massive amounts of energy to rebuild Bifrost (with no Tesseract), and when the news arrives that his snarky little black-haired relic has survived the impossible, Odin does what he does best. </p><p>He takes a nap.</p><p>Or, how Loki was lost and found and lost and found and maybe found again. </p><p>(An AU fic mostly from Loki's POV which takes place after Thor and will eventually be woven into kind of the Avengers. Chapters are short! Read a few! You won't be disappointed! (also I love feedback!))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_He sleeps, huddled on the icy ground. He does not remember what it is to be warm. The cold drives into his skin and bones, leaving shards of white-hot pain that he almost wishes would stay. He at least feels alive when he hurts._

Erik Selvig wasn’t one to swear. It showed a lack of imagination. But as he stood in the dark matter lab, staring at the glowing blue cube before him, he found himself thinking of some very imaginative curses. Another day, another failure. He was beginning to wonder if he should admit to someone that he had no idea what he was doing, or even looking for. This Tesseract eluded him. He had the information from Hydra and all of SHIELD’s records, and they did him no good. Turning to Fury, he shook his head.

“Nothing.” Selvig nodded to Langley. “I’ve had enough for today. Shut it down.”

_He curls in on himself. He thinks his arm is broken. Again. It feels strange when he tries to move it, as do his legs. He absently wonders if he’s dying. He wonders if it matters._

Selvig turned his back on the machine. Enough failure for one day. Behind him, the apparatus suddenly flared to life. He whirled on Langley, uncommonly short-tempered.

“I said shut it off.”

The tech held up his hands. “I was.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Selvig turned around.

A beam of blue light shot from the Tesseract through the darkness of the lab, smashing into the gate at the other end of the giant room. Selvig watched in awe as the blue energy swirled and writhed, finally spiraling open at the center to reveal a vast emptiness. In that second, Erik Selvig saw perfection.

A wormhole.

“Are you getting this?”

Frantic beeps sounded from behind him as Langley worked feverishly. “We are now.”

_A tug, unfamiliar. Irritating. He shifts painfully in his sleep._

The wormhole bloomed for a second, obscuring everything within and behind it. Selvig saw it collapsing on itself, and he found himself reaching out to stop it. But as the singularity closed, it brought with it a violent explosion that blew him off his feet. Actinic light flowed in waves up the walls, spiraling toward the ceiling where it vanished.

He rubbed his shoulder where he had been thrown back against a display as he pulled himself upright. Fury was already calling for a medical team. Selvig’s eyes narrowed in the smoke.

Something had come through.

_A change. Cold metal against his face. The smell of it fills his nose. Another hallucination. Dimly, he hears footsteps thudding towards him. Staccato clicks surround him as he lies in a pool of darkness and his own frozen blood. Voices. Hands, intrusive and prodding. He begins to drift away, but they will not let him. They grasp and pull and lift and abruptly he is moving. He shuts his eyes against a sudden light, glaring but intermittent. One voice draws him from the depths. Loud. Insistent. “Sir. Sir, can you hear me? Do you understand me?” It repeats and repeats._

_“I hear you,” he finally says. It aches to speak._

_“Sir, can you tell me your name?”_

_He doesn’t know why it matters, but he will do anything to silence the voice. It echoes through his head, leaving piercing pain in its wake. His words come slowly._

_“I am Loki.”_

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The section occurs about a month after the first. 
> 
> In this AU, many of the Avengers already know each other. Hopefully it won't get too confusing. If it does, please let me know! :)

Rogers slipped into the meeting a few minutes late.  It had been a standard debriefing, and as he had mostly served as pilot this time around, it wasn’t imperative that he was on time.  He had taken his time on the rooftop sorting out the Quinjet, then popped down to the 29th floor conference room.  He sat next to Coulson as Dr. Kindle finished up her presentation to Fury.

He was familiar with the doctor, but didn’t know her well.  She was a member of the medical staff, and although she was frequently assigned to the infirmary, he thought he remembered that it wasn’t her primary post. Coulson knew her better, as he recalled. The doctor had been with SHIELD for a very long time.

He looked up at the display, a map with several overlapping color blotches. Epidemiology.  That was it.

“Did you find the point of origin, then?” Fury leaned forward.  “Patient Zero?”

Kindle tucked her hands into the pockets of her lab coat.  Underneath, she wore jeans, a t-shirt and hooded sweatshirt; she seemed to have thrown on the coat as a mere formality, or an afterthought.

“We’ll need to do further testing,” she replied, “but I’d put cash money on the table that the plane itself is your point of origin. We’ve backtracked on all the passengers; nothing out of the ordinary. And yes,” she said, “I used your definition of ‘ordinary.’ They were all clean before they got on.  I think there was something that happened mid-flight.”

“Terrorism?” Rogers couldn’t help himself.  It was part of the costume.

She shook her head. “Not in the normal sense. Leftovers from Hydra, maybe. The plane was fairly old. I don’t know that this was an actual event with a capital E, but we’ll know more when we’ve finished the analysis on the wreckage itself.”

“Containment?”

Kindle tapped the screen, and the display morphed. “We’ll be at 85 percent within 12 hours, and we’re looking at complete containment by probably this time tomor-”

An alarm cut across her sentence, and immediately the display split in half. “Breach,” came an urgent voice across the speaker. “I repeat, we have a breach.” All eyes went to the display, where a camera feed labeled L4 showed an empty cell in a larger room. Scattered bodies in SHIELD uniforms littered the floor. Fury stood quickly as he spoke.

“Lock down that level. Do not engage.” He headed toward the door and was halfway through when Dr. Kindle called out.

“Wait!”

“Later.”

“But who’s out?”

Coulson surged to his feet as well.  “Our new friend.”

“You mean him? No, he’s not.” Something in her voice made both men stop, and they turned around. Kindle was pointing to the display. Specifically, to the cot in Loki’s cell. “He’s right there, actually.”

Everyone in the room was staring at the display, where Kindle was indicating what looked like a messy, but empty cot.

Fury came closer. “Say that again?”

“He’s still in his cell. Right there.”

Not taking his gaze from the display, Fury tapped a button on the table. “Fury here. Stand down the alert.”

The voice on the other end seemed surprised. “Sir?”

“The breach may not be a breach. Stand down for a minute.” He turned back to Kindle. “Talk.”

“I see an empty cell,” she replied. “And I see downed guards here, here, here and here.” She pointed to each body on the floor as Rogers and everyone else saw them. Fury nodded.

“Go on.”

“But I also see four guards at their posts, and one prisoner in a cell on his bed. Nope. Standing now. I think he knows something’s up.”

“You see through his illusions.”

She nodded. “I see both, actually. It’s like the worst case of double vision on the planet.”

Fury looked around the room. “Anyone else see this?” He looked in turn around the table, last of all at Rogers.  Steve held up his hands in the universal not-me gesture. The director looked back at Dr. Kindle. “You’re sure of this.”

“Positive. Have some IT guys run the feed through. I’m sure they’ll find some anomalies somewhere.” She leaned against the table and indicated the display with one hand. “This… this happens a lot, does it?”

Barton couldn’t contain himself. “It’s been happening for days. Where have you _been_?”

She looked at him, then exaggeratedly gestured to the other side of the display, where the map still shifted slowly back and forth. She spoke clearly and deliberately. “Nebraska. Inside a plane. Did you get _nothing_ from my presentation?  I worked for hours on it. Well, _an_ hour. Maybe a solid forty-five minutes." She pointed an accusing finger at the archer. "But that is _not_ the point.”

“Yes,” Fury broke in, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It happens frequently. We get word of a breach; we go into lockdown; we sweep the place and then ten minutes later the sweeps come back and the doors have never been opened. We didn’t think that his illusions extended to machinery, but apparently he’s a fast learner. He’s been playing for a few days now.”

“Is he injured?”

“He’s improving every day. We’ll do some follow-up, if it’s warranted, but his docs say he’s well out of danger.”

“Probably just bored, then,” she said.

“Is that your medical opinion?”

“Absolutely,” said Kindle. “You don’t pay me for the other kind.”

Fury became serious. “We’re having to send all the feeds through scrubbers as well as techs. We’ve been able to keep ahead of him for the most part, finding out what he can do, but the past few days have been a huge drain on our resources. We’re always about five minutes behind, and when it comes to him, that’s too long.” He walked to the display, pulling several feeds. “Tell me what you see in these.”

Kindle surveyed the screens, pointing out details. “Here,” she said, “and here, and here.”

Fury nodded as he pulled up the corrected feeds. “Right on every count.” He rubbed his forehead, then leaned against the table. Aeslin turned her back to the screens to look at him. Fury was watching her with a sort of curiosity.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I need your help,” the director replied simply.

“You do,” she agreed, looking back at the display, which was now normalizing. The scrubbers were working, or Loki had determined that his tricks weren’t working today. It was hard to say. Kindle shook her head. “But I don’t like that look.” She gestured with a thumb to the screen behind her. “ _That’s_ your Index case. Not me.”

“You can see through illusions. Powerful ones.”

Kindle shrugged. “Some people are colorblind. Some people are double-jointed. I knew a guy in college whose insides were backward. These things happen.”

“Doctor.”

“Do you want my help, or don’t you?”

A resigned sigh. “I do,” said Fury.

“You’re going to owe me, you know.”

“That goes without saying,” Fury replied.

“No,” she said. “I mean _big_ time. Babysitting Index cases is one thing. Babysitting Index cases kept on Level Four is something else entirely.” She raised her eyebrow at Fury. “At _least_ tell me it’s not the same room.”

Fury was quiet for a second. “There’s been some remodeling,” he finally said.

“Don’t suppose you’d move him.”

Fury shook his head. “Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

“Figures.” She folded her arms, tapping her index finger on the opposite sleeve. “Any idea on how much longer he’s going to be down there?”

Fury shook his head. “He’s going to be tried in Asgard for his crimes, but since his father’s decided to take a breather at an extremely inopportune time, we’ve been asked to hold onto him for the foreseeable future.”

Her eyes narrowed a little. “So you have no idea how long this assignment’s going to take?”

“Hopefully not more than a few months.”

“Fan _tas_ tic.” Kindle stood in silence for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “I’ll need a workstation, then,” she replied. “Blind it if you have to, but I have other work to do.” At Fury’s raised eyebrow, she went on, slightly exasperated. “I have a dissertation to finish in the next few months.  I’ve already put it off three times because of your ‘assignments.’  It needs to be _done_.  If you’re going to put me back on level four, the least you can do is let me do it my way this time. Workstation, bookshelves - everything.”

“Done,” replied Fury.  His relief was palpable. “I appreciate this. I’ll also have Phil keep you up to speed on the Nebraska issue. He may have further questions. We’ll leave two guards posted outside the main room as a backup in case something goes wrong and for temporary relief, but you can move anything you want to down to your old place.” He held up his hands, forestalling an angry look. “Bad choice of words. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately for us, Loki’s not stupid, and I think once he figures out what’s going on, it should be nice and quiet down there. And if I’m wrong, feel free to mute him.”

Something seemed to click in Kindle’s mind. “Wait just a minute,” she said. “Is this-”

“If no one has any further questions on the presentation, _Barton_ ,” Fury announced suddenly, “then this briefing is dismissed. Dr. Kindle, if you’ll stay for a few moments, I’ll give you the details on your new assignment.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki learns that there are doctors, and then there are doctors. The first meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (To recap: Loki is dropped into the Void by Odin. A year later, he is brought through a wormhole into the Dark Matter lab, much worse for wear, and with no memory of where he's been. Odin, who has been expending massive amounts of magic and energy in order to rebuild the bridge, is told of his son's reappearance. The shock, plus the strain of everything else, sends him into the Odinsleep. SHIELD, through Thor, is asked to keep Loki until Odin wakes again so that he can be sentenced for his crimes against Asgard.)

The shift changed around 645 in the morning, according to the clock that Loki could just barely see.  There had been some activity the night before; a change in computer systems, from what he could tell, and a bookcase, of all things.  It stood empty against a wall, and he wondered if this was a sign of a change in technique.  He hadn’t been interrogated in days, and even then, the questions seemed rudimentary at best.  He was feeling better every day, and he felt that maybe it was time for a new challenge.  

The door opened and a cart was pushed through by a casually dressed woman.  It was covered in books, notebooks and what appeared to be medical supplies.  He stood silently near the door to his cell and watched as she parked the cart near the workstation.

“You’re new.” His voice sounded a little hoarse from almost a week of disuse.  

She looked up and smiled, coming toward him.  “Yes.  My name’s Aeslin Kindle.  They transferred your care to me as of seven this morning.”

“Just you?”

“Well, and the guards still posted outside.  But yes.  Just me.”

“Ah.”  He crossed to sit on a chair, pulling it closer to the door so he could observe her better.  “So you’re my doctor, then?”

She shook her head.  “Not exactly.  I’m a PA.”  At the slight confusion on his face, she elaborated.  “A physician assistant.  I can do almost everything a doctor does, and it was determined that you’re doing well enough that I can easily handle your care.”

“Not a doctor then.”

“Not of medicine, no.  But yes, I am a doctor, and I will be again soon.  I hold a doctorate in epidemiology; my dissertation was mixed epidemiology, medical anthropology and genetics as they pertain to founder’s populations and genetic susceptibility to disease.  If my luck holds out, I’ll be defending a second dissertation in the next few months on the need for preservation of early medieval sites in Europe to get my doctorate in historical preservation and museum studies.  I’ve been trying to finish it for almost a year, and they told me it was nice and quiet down here.  So it was a trade.”

Loki blinked, a little bemused. It was the most contact he’d had in days, and he hadn’t expected so much at once. He had only a vague idea of what anything she had just told him actually meant, but that almost didn’t matter. What he had understood was enough. The rest would come in time, and he had plenty of _that_ to spare.

He leaned back, crossing his long legs at the ankle. “Well then, doctor-not-doctor-almost-doctor Kindle.  I’m pleased to meet you, I think.” Loki tilted his head toward her a little.  “Are you a trap?”

Now it was her turn to look him over.  He noticed that her eyes were a strange grey-green, and it was rather disconcerting to have her looking at him so directly.  Being a god of illusions meant that people didn’t tend to make much eye contact, and he couldn’t imagine that she would be sent down here not knowing who, and what, he was.  “I’m not,” Aeslin finally replied, seeming to be satisfied with what she saw.   “Believe me or not.  It’s up to you.  I do have a couple of things you requested, and I’ll need to get a blood sample here in a minute, after I’m finished setting up.  Just a heads up.”  She smiled, and it was a good smile.  

He smiled back, and it wasn’t as kind of a smile.  “I’ll be ready.” he said, continuing to watch her.  “And don’t mind me.  I’ll just amuse myself by observing.”

Aeslin laughed a little. “And you needn’t bother with trying to spook me.  I work for SHIELD. I’ve held a beating heart in my hands.  There’s not a whole lot you can do that will bother me.”  She walked back to her desk.  “Although,” she said over her shoulder, “that’s also not an invitation to try.”

She loaded up her bookshelf while he watched, deliberately oblivious to his scrutiny.  Loki had to admit he was stumped; he knew there was a reason she was here, and not someone else, and he couldn’t figure it out.   He wondered if his little trick the day before had finally driven his captors to action, but this seemed a little out of the ordinary, even for them.

Coming to his feet, he left an illusory Loki in his chair and stood near the door.  With nothing better to do, he watched while she sorted and bundled, stacked books and organized her workstation and medical cart.  A chime sounded at the door for breakfast delivery about 20 minutes later, and she went to answer it and grab the meal cart.  

Finally, Aeslin returned to the entrance to his cell.  Loki straightened but left his illusion in the chair as she rummaged around on the cart.  It couldn’t be this easy.  It couldn’t. “All right,” she began.  “Sample first, then meds, breakfast and books.”  Straightening, she looked directly at him, completely ignoring the illusion.  “So I need you to step away from the door and go sit down.”

Loki felt a sudden, paralyzing numbness, as though he had been punched in the stomach.  He stared at her for a moment with his mouth slightly open, completely uncomprehending.  

“Please,” she said.  “Just sit back down.  You’re making my eyes water.”

He did as she asked, not taking his eyes off her as she activated the cuff on the chair and opened the door.  True to her word, she merely took a tiny tube of blood from his ring finger, and he barely felt the stick.  He remained silent while she brought in his meal tray and the pair of books he’d requested the week before.  She smiled again at him as she left the cell and released his cuff, but it wasn’t a harsh or cruel smile.  If anything, she looked a little sympathetic.  She returned to her desk and took out her own breakfast.  Booting her machine and opening a book, she began to work.  

“Let me know if you’d like music or anything,” she said a few minutes later.  “I know how boring it can get down here.”

He said nothing, eating in a sort of stupor as he realized exactly what had happened.  Somehow, SHIELD had found themselves a mortal who could see right through him.  He had no idea where they had found her, or how they knew.  After finishing his food, he went back to his cot and lay down, his hands behind his head.  He alternated between staring at the ceiling and at her, not caring if she noticed or not.  She sat in profile, bent over a sketchpad with a set of photographs open on the workstation in front of her.  

After about a half an hour, Loki began to tire.  He was still on heavy pain medications, although they didn’t do as much as they would have on a human.  They merely took the edge off the residual pain and allowed him to rest.  He began drifting in and out of sleep, finally allowing himself to drop off completely.

When he awoke several hours later, he had come to a decision.  Allowing himself a few moments to wake, Loki then stood and pulled the second chair back over to the door with a loud, purposeful scrape.  He sat silently, waiting for Aeslin to acknowledge him.  She looked up from her workstation; she had put the sketchbook away and was rapidly typing, occasionally stopping to move a block of text or photograph on the display with a thumb and finger.    

“Hungry?” she asked.  “You were out quite a long time.”

He shook his head, but said nothing.  Resting his chin in his hand, he continued staring.  She merely shrugged and went back to typing.  Loki let it continue for several minutes, then spoke.

“Are you even human?”

Aeslin stopped typing and turned to face him.  Once again, he was disconcerted by the direct approach she took, but found himself beginning to at least appreciate someone who talked to him like a person, and not a criminal or specimen. She returned his gaze.

“ _T_ _hat_ is a fair question,” she responded.  “Especially around here.  Yes.  I am.  46 chromosomes. One mom, one dad, one normal birth at 35 weeks.  Promise.”

His eyes narrowed.  “And yet you can’t see my illusions.  How?”

“Also an excellent question.  The short answer is that I have no idea, and I don’t think anyone else around here does either.  And I _do_ see them, but at the same time, I see you, too.  I don’t know how I see you.  I just… do.  I didn’t know it was a thing until yesterday.” She paused for a second.  “I guess that’s the long answer, too.”

“So you _are_ a trap.”

She shook her head.  “I told you I wasn’t, and that was the truth. I won’t lie to you.  I’m actually a hideously bad liar.  It’s probably the reason they never made me an agent.  I’m just no good at it, which is all right, because I find it pointless.”

“Which could be a lie, too.”

“Which could be your paranoia talking,” she replied.  “Not that I blame you. But I give you my word.  I’m not a trap. That was never part of the deal.”

 Loki smiled, finally feeling like he was getting answers.  “And what was the deal?”

"Taking over your care in exchange for being left alone to finish my dissertation.  I told you that.  It’s taken me nine months too long already.”

 He sat back, deflated.  She _had_ told him, and as one whose life was built around illusions, he could also tell she was telling the truth, at least as she knew it.  There was no guile in her at all.  And truth be told, that unnerved him more than anything.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki is reminded that one catches more flies with honey than vinegar, which is only fine if one _wants_ to catch flies. If one wishes to catch something better, a little more effort is required.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (To recap: Loki is dropped into the Void by Odin. A year later, he is brought through a wormhole into the Dark Matter lab, much worse for wear, and with no memory of where he's been. Odin, who has been expending massive amounts of magic and energy in order to rebuild the bridge, is told of his son's reappearance. The shock, plus the strain of everything else, sends him into the Odinsleep. SHIELD, through Thor, is asked to keep Loki until Odin wakes again so that he can be sentenced for his crimes against Asgard.)

_Some days are worse than others. It's never easy to tell what a day will be before it begins. The headaches, at least, have gone - the ones that leave lights behind his eyes and memories that he's never sure are his. Such a fickle thing, memory. So easily twisted into what should be; he's known that for centuries. What he didn't know is how irritating it would be when it was his own mind he couldn't trust._

_The mood swings are almost as bad, made worse by the confines of his glass prison. Six steps in every direction; he's at least encouraged by that. It used to be ten, with a stop halfway across to catch his breath._

_He knew the second he woke that this day would be a bad one. He should have stayed in his bed. He should have put his face in a book and refused to take it out. He should have limited his words to yes, please and thank you. He should have told her when she asked that he wanted nothing except a steady supply of sleeping pills, or at least a gag._

_Then again, the sons of Odin have never been great at 'should haves.'_

_The words are a mistake. He knows it, and he says them anyway. But that isn't the worst part. He doesn't stop saying them. He keeps going, long after he should be begging her to silence him any way she knows how. He gathers all of his hurt. His anger. His frustration. His hate. His fury. His sorrow. He packages them all into the sweetest, cruelest, most vicious words he can think of, and he gives them to her. But that isn't the worst part, either.  
_

_The worst part? He's not even sorry. Not when he sees the line of her jaw clench. Not when her face goes white. Not even when she can't keep herself from taking a step back, one so small he almost doesn't notice it, but he cannot keep the smile from his face when he does._

_She says nothing. She merely turns away, her steps measured as she returns to her workstation. She pulls her nut-brown hair back into a bun, anchoring it with one of her drawing pencils in a practiced motion._

_The music starts only a few minutes later._

_At least, he thinks that's what it's supposed to be. All the bits are there. Words. Notes. And there, the similarities end._

_He flops on his bed, snatching one of his books from the table next to it. He stares at the pages, remembering only occasionally to turn them. Then he moves on to his letters, flipping through each one as noisily as he can. She ignores him, completely focused on the project before her. He picks up the empty cup from the table. Lying back on his cot, he begins tossing it into the air, catching it easily each time. He begins to weave illusions, more of habit than anything else. First a cup. Then a ball. Back to a cup. A jewel. A pair of dice. A ribbon. A knife. Through it all, she does not react, and the music continues._

_Eventually, he moves the pillow from behind his head to cover his face. He wonders how long it will take to smother himself, and whether he'll lose consciousness before he manages to finish the job. All the while, his anger builds, tinged with something he can't quite place._

_He presses on the pillow, a small part of himself congratulating whoever created the aural monstrosity for knowing the exact frequency to pierce layers of cotton and fluff. He finally grabs the pillow with both hands, throwing it against the opposite wall. It bounces off the transparent panel gaily, tumbling to a stop next to the bed._

_"By the gods, woman!" he screams, coming to his feet. "What is it you want from me?"_

_She turns her chair deliberately to face him, uncrossing her legs and strolling over to his cage. She stands before him, holding up a small cylinder and tapping a button near one end. The music stops. They regard each other through the thick glass._

_"Three words," she says into the quiet. "Two, if you know how to use contractions."_

_He speaks through gritted teeth. "I know how."_

_"Oooh," she tsks. "Not the words I was looking for. Try again later." She turns away, returning to her chair. Her finger moves ever so slightly back to the button in her hand._

_He begins to recognize the emotion clinging to the underside of his rage. The one he had himself almost convinced was something else, but he sees it for what it is now._

_Shame._

_He lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping. He speaks, wondering why it's so hard to say two words. The others came easily enough._

_"I'm sorry."_

_She comes to a halt, glancing over her shoulder at him. He looks at her from the corner of his eye._

_"Is that what you were looking for?" he asks._

_She tosses the cylinder to the desktop, flopping into her chair. It spins a little until she stops it with one booted foot on the ground. She shrugs, turning back to her work._

_"Well," she says, "it's a start."_

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Involving one thesis, two gods, half a dozen eclairs and a very painful memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section takes place a couple of months after the previous one. Loki's still imprisoned, so the days are much the same. After the incident in the last chapter, he's begun to behave himself, at least around her. It's not her fault he's down there, and he gets that. It took quite some time to smooth things over, but he made the effort, not least of all because he's bored, and she's the only person (Thor doesn't count) who talks to him.

Aeslin was already working when Loki woke up the next morning, surprised that he hadn’t heard her come in.  He wondered how long she’d been there - stacks of paper were organized neatly on the floor, pages turned this way and that to keep them separated.  Doing the math in his head, he realized that this was probably the day that she was collating and distributing her dissertation.  Oddly enough, he was glad it was coming to an end; though she normally talked quite a bit while she worked, during the last week, she had been extremely preoccupied.  An extra guard had been posted at the door for security, as Aeslin had told him she couldn’t focus entirely on him during this last push.  She had been apologetic, but he hadn’t blamed her for it.  This morning, though, the guard was gone again, and Aeslin was alone among the stacks.  She was inserting pages into the piles - maps and drawings, from the look of things.  

She seemed to sense, as she always did, that he was watching her.  “Good morning,” she said over her shoulder.  “Sorry if I woke you.”

“Nothing of the sort,” he replied.  “I never heard you come in.  Have you been here long?”

Glancing at the clock, she shrugged.  “A few hours, I guess.  I couldn’t sleep, so I started assembling.  I just want this done.  Printing was done yesterday afternoon. I stopped by to pick it up and add the last-minute details.  Hopefully this will be out the door by this afternoon to three lucky dissertation readers.”

“May I read it?”  The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  Aeslin looked at him in barely-disguised surprise.

“Why on earth would you want to?”

 _Because your mind fascinates me, apparently._  “Because I believe I’ve read all the books I’m allowed to in this place, and I must say I’m curious as to what’s been consuming you.”  His smile was only a little wicked.  “Perhaps I’m jealous of what’s taken your attention away from me.” _And perhaps there’s no perhaps about it, you pathetic little prisoner.  You’re worse than a beaten puppy._ _There’s your trap._ Keeping the smile plastered on his face, Loki mentally shoved the inner voice down, none too gently. He had no patience for it today.

“It’s an unpublished dissertation about four case studies in historical preservation,” she said slowly.  “How interesting can it be?”

Loki spread his hands.  “Try me.  If you think about it, you’ll probably be hard pressed to find a more objective reader.  I know nothing of what you do.”

This time she didn’t try to hide her surprise, which was now touched with suspicion.  “Then at least know this. All this-” here she gestured to the piles around her- “is the culmination of over nine _years_ of my life.  It represents sweat, struggle, tears, self-defense and weapons training, seven broken ribs, one broken leg, more sleepless nights than I care to count, an art supply store bill that would make Michelangelo weep, an _office_ supply bill so high that Fury had to make it part of the R &D budget, five breakups, two cases of pneumonia, three tetanus shots and a broken engagement. This is all my experience and my anger and my vulnerabilities and my flashes of absolute brilliance, represented in four copies of 270 pages each, including illustrations.  This is my soft white academic underbelly. To me, it’s not just a book.”  Her voice had gotten progressively louder as she had gone on, and now she seemed to realize that it had.  She went on, more softly.  “I am very defensive and very protective of this.  In order for me to even consider handing it over, I’m going to need you to give me a _very_ good reason why I should.”

“I don’t have one.” Even as he said it, Loki realized that he honestly didn’t.  He was surprised at the strength of her reaction; she had been with him fifteen hours out of every day for the previous several weeks, and this was only the second time he had seen her even come close to losing her temper.  (The first time had been fairly spectacular and had involved a hastily-muted meeting with Fury that Loki would have given his eyeteeth to have heard completely.  Aeslin had never spoken of the meeting afterward, and Fury hadn’t been back in almost two weeks.)

“I’m sorry,” he added suddenly, again without thinking. _Weak little boy_ , said the voice _. You owe her nothing. She is nothing. Gods do not apologize._ Loki shoved the voice down again, harder this time.

Aeslin rocked back on her heels and pulled her hands into her sleeves.  She regarded him critically.  “Apology accepted,” she said after a moment.  “You didn’t know.” The door chime rang, and she stood and threaded her way through the piles to retrieve the meal trays.  Bringing it over to his cell, she motioned for him to sit, then locked the cuff as she had done every time before.  She entered his room and put the tray on the table.  “No tests this morning,” she said.  “And I think your brother sent you a letter.”  He nodded, and she gave him a weak smile back.  Truce restored, it said.  She left the cell, unlocked his cuff and went back to work.  

She turned on music about an hour later, quiet soothing pieces that alternately made him want to cry, sleep or blow something up, depending on how long the song was.  Though he normally would have said something, he found himself not wanting to bother her.  He kept his peace, occasionally skimming the letter from his brother and the books already in his cell.  Several hours passed, and Aeslin finally finished her project.  She arranged the stacks on her cart and parked it near the door, then made a call to let the upper level know that she was ready to be relieved.  As she waited for her replacement to come down, she paced back and forth a little.

“I won’t be here tomorrow,” she said after a while. “I’ve got to get this delivered. After that, I’ll likely sleep for about a year and a half.  Or at least a day.  Whichever.”  The door opened to admit two guards, and she went through the procedures to turn care over.  It was a very familiar dance by this point, and she was done in under ten minutes.  Tugging her cart behind her, Aeslin waved as she walked through the door.  He kept himself from waving back.  Any smile that he had disappeared as he watched his brother come through the door, nodding to Aeslin as he passed.  

This was going to be an exceptionally long night.

****

Aeslin didn’t return until the third day, and it was well after breakfast when she finally appeared.  Loki noticed the moment that she came in that a huge weight was gone from her shoulders.  She seemed happy.  At peace.  He found himself trying to hide the fact that he was glad to see her, or at least a friendly face.  His time with his brother, while rather productive, had been exhausting, at best.  It generally was, but he had at least brought news from home.

“Two weeks,” she said in greeting.  “My defense is scheduled for twelve days from today, and then it will be finished! Done! Forever! And then,” she said with a slightly mischievous smile, “I shall be Doctor-not-doctor-again-doctor Kindle, and it will be _glorious_ **.** ” She flopped into her chair, pushed against the desk with one heavily-booted foot and coasted over to his cell. “Glorious, I tell you.” Taking in the barely-touched breakfast tray and Loki’s face, she narrowed her eyes.  “You look terrible.  Have you slept?”

“Technically.”

She blew hair from her face.  “I wrote specific doctor’s orders that he was not to be difficult,” she confessed.  “Apparently he didn’t read them.”

“He probably couldn’t. Too many words at once.”

That earned him a stern look, and he gave her most of an innocent smile in return. “Asgardians,” she finally said, tossing her hands up in frustration.  “Saints preserve me from Asgardians, although when I say it that way, it doesn’t sound quite right. Things like that always sounded better coming from my grandmother, anyways.  I’m too young and probably not Scottish enough to pull it off. Do you need something to help you sleep?”

As before, he felt the slight whiplash of trying to follow her thoughts, which were faster now that she was free from the weight of a thousand pages ( _i_ _ncluding illustrations_ , his mind added). “I just want quiet,” he said, and then instantly regretted it as her face fell a little. He backpedaled furiously.  “I didn’t mean-”

She let him flounder for a second, then laughed.  “I know what you mean.” Pushing against the cell, she coasted back across the room.  “Get some rest. He can be rather tiresome, I’ll admit.  But he means well.  Remember that.”  

“I don’t want to.” Loki watched her eyebrow go up, then realized what she thought he meant.  “I don’t want to sleep, I mean.  I have plenty of time for that. As for my brother, or whatever I call him, I don’t pretend to understand what he means. We’re different, he and I.  We were even when…” He caught himself. “Even before.”

“He has spoken for you,” she replied.  “Not often, but from what he says, he has argued strongly against any, uh, permanent punishment.”

“That’s because he still thinks I can be redeemed.”

Her eyes locked on his.  “Can you?”

Loki met her gaze, clear green battling piercing blue.  “I need no redemption.  I need no approval. Not from him.”

“From anyone?”

_From Frigga._

“You tell me.”  

The inner voice laughed gleefully. - _Only Frigga? Are you sure?-_

He shoved the voice down, harder, but it dodged. - _A god needs approval from no one. They are nothing._ _She is nothing. You know that. Or don't you?-_

She must have seen something in his face.  “That’s fair,” she said, still looking at him.  

He found himself breaking eye contact first, casting around for something else to talk about.  “May I have something to eat?  My food’s cold.”  

“Of course. I don’t see that you ate much yesterday.” A conversation on the surface, a second, silent one down below. _Don’t think I’m letting this go. Your care was given to me. In this moment, you are my responsibility._

“The delivery was… lacking.” _You should. My fate is not your concern._

“I’ll be sure to sign the God of Thunder up for ‘Custodial Care for Higher Beings and Other Beginners’. I think it will go over well.” _The hell it’s not._

“I would appreciate that.” _Leave it._

“Consider it done.” _For now. Don’t get too comfortable; you’re no longer the only one here with a whole heap of spare time._

She stood, and he marveled again how quiet she was in her heavy boots. Pulling an unfamiliar book from her cart, she walked over to his cell.  “I was going to give this to you later,” she said, passing it through the slot.  Loki looked down at the tray as it slid toward him.  A temporary job, plain white bookboard with grey binding.  He opened to the first page.   _Hope, Memory, Failure, Light: Four Studies in Medieval Restoration.  A. G. Kindle, MArch, PhD_.

He looked back up.  Aeslin’s face was almost unreadable.  “It was a good enough answer,” she said.  “Probably the most completely honest thing you’ve ever said to me. That was worth something.” Loki reached out to take it, but she spoke again.  “Wait until I’m gone tonight to start reading.  And Loki-” at this he started.  She had never said his name before. “Don’t make me regret this.”

*** 

The day was rather busy, in retrospect.  Two visitors came; Barton first, to talk to Aeslin.  Loki had no idea what they talked about; Barton had no compunctions about muting the speakers and pretending Loki wasn’t there.  It seemed like a normal chat, though, and for once one that had nothing to do with him.  Aeslin was apparently well-acquainted with the soldier, and although she had told him repeatedly that she wasn’t an agent, Loki often wondered how closely she truly was linked to SHIELD.  

The second visitor, late in the afternoon, was his brother. Thor had brought his Goblin’s Teeth board down in an attempt to make peace with Loki, at least temporarily. Clearly Aeslin had wasted no time in bringing him to task for his treatment of her patient, and his visit was meant to be an apology to both of them. Loki knew it was, since his brother in turn wasted no time in apologizing, loudly enough that there was no mistaking it for something else. Aeslin merely rolled her eyes and let them play.  She didn’t know the game, though Loki surmised that, given time to learn, she might easily wipe the floor with both of them.  His brother was an indifferent player at best, and although Loki was much better, he hadn’t played in quite some time. It was a helpful diversion, though.  Aeslin’s book lay on his bed, casually covered by a blanket.  He had so far kept his promise not to read it. 

 _-It’s just a book.  It’s nothing. It tells you nothing, unless you want to read the tiny dreams and useless actions of one mortal.-_  The voice was relentless.  This time, though, as he stared at the board, he spoke back.

_You don’t know that. I have to understand._

The voice jeered. - _Know what? Weak little god. What is there that you don’t understand?-_

_Why I care._

And once he said it, once he admitted it, finally there was silence.  Blessed, blessed silence.  

“Four runes in the black bag, full moon up, tall ship east. Knight to jack’s eighteenth and that’s 30 points to me.”

Loki sighed.   _Brief_ silence.  “Tall ship south. 35.”

Thor looked again.  “Ah. Thank you, brother.”

“Needlestone, troll to king’s fifth.  Five runes in, full moon down.  60 points and the game to me.”

“Damn,” Thor shook his head. “I didn’t see that.”

Loki stretched his arms, his old smile coming through.  “You never do. That’s 685 to me, 544 to you.”

“546,” his brother amended, scraping the dice into a leather sack.

“Setting the board on fire doesn’t count as a win.  Not under standard rules.”

Thor smirked. “I don’t recall ever saying which rules we were playing.”

“Very well.” Loki shrugged.  “I’ll remember that next time.”

His brother nodded.  “And there will be a next time, if I have my say.  I give you my word.” He stood, sweeping the ornate hardwood box up in one arm.  “Do you require anything, Kindlesdaughter?”

“If you could send the unapologetically delicious pastry fairy down, I wouldn’t throw her out.”

Thor blinked, and Loki could almost hear the wheels turning. “Very well,” he said. “I shall do my best.”

***

There were very few foods that Loki found mortals did better than Asgardians. Chocolate eclairs were one of them.  A box of them had been sent down, apparently after Thor had repeated Aeslin’s request verbatim to Agent Romanoff and asked what she meant. The two women had known each other long enough that Natasha knew exactly what she was after and had gone to get them herself, making excuses about on-site quality testing when Thor had questioned why they just didn’t have someone bring them.  Aeslin had shared them with her charge and had bid him good evening about an hour before.  

The room was silent in her absence.  Loki knew there were two guards watching his monitors, and possibly more, but they didn’t matter.  He finished his snack and sat on his cot with his back against the wall, long legs stretched in front of him.  Picking up her book from beneath the blanket, he flipped through.  The text was interspersed with pictures - photographs, illustrations and maps.  Near the middle, he stopped on a full page photograph.  His eyes flicked to the description.  Faroe. He knew the place.  He remembered as a child, accompanying Odin to Earth and standing on this very headland. The picture had been taken in late spring, all green earth and stark cliffs. Loki could still smell the breeze. He gently closed the book for a moment and closed his eyes, hoping against hope that the monitors were too far away to show the tears on his face.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reading people is a helpful skill, until it gets you more than you bargained for.

Loki had managed to pull himself together by the time the aides came about an hour later.  He barely acknowledged them as they set up the portable station they brought every evening.  Distracted, he quickly brushed his teeth, showered and changed into the clean clothes they supplied him - a long sleeved shirt and a set of grey scrubs.  He declined anything else, and soon the medics and guards had taken their things and left him alone again.  The lights were turned off, but Loki turned on the bedside light, sat down and opened the book from the beginning.  He skimmed the table of contents.  It appeared to be in sections, working through four major attempts at restoration:  in Prague, Faroe, Turkey and the Isle of Man.  He read for a couple of hours, taking his time.  It was very well written, interspersed with drawings, maps and other images.  Loki felt himself dropping off midway through the reclamation of a leper hospital in Prague and let himself fall asleep with the book on his chest.

***

He woke only a few hours later, his sleep troubled by dreams. Loki had only a vague idea of what he had dreamed - green earth, grey cliffs, and stained glass windows with colors that made him want to weep with joy. The most vivid memory was of a violent storm and a sudden fall that had jerked him awake.

The room was still dark except for the bedside lamp, and he lay for a moment to calm his breath as he stared at the ceiling. He realized quickly that sleep would not be returning, even if he had wanted it to. Finally pushing himself to a sitting position, he saw Aeslin’s book on the ground.  He felt a strange stab of guilt and quickly picked it up, putting it next to the lamp. Motion sensing lights flicked on as he stood and stretched.  He  walked to the sink tucked in the back corner of the cell and splashed water on his face, combing his hair back with long fingers.   Resisting the urge to pick up the book again, he pulled up his chair and sat down to wait for Aeslin to show up for work.

She arrived a couple of hours later, greeting him as normal.  Bringing over his breakfast tray, she transferred it through the slot in the door.  He had finally been medically discharged.  Blood tests were a thing of the past, and he had opted to get his breakfast this way. Aeslin had explained that she was no longer his doctor, for what it was worth. Only his jailer.  She clearly noticed the book open on the table, but didn’t mention it.  Slouched in his chair, legs crossed at the ankle, he regarded her as he ate his breakfast.  “Are you busy this morning?” he asked finally.

Aeslin shook her head, scrolling through a screen on her workstation.  “I’ve been busy for months. Years.  Today, I’m not.  In fact, I’m deliberately _not_ busy today.  I’m thinking today will involve a lot of comic books and video games.  Did you want something?”

“I’d like to ask you some things,” he said, inclining his head toward her book, “about that.”

“You’ve read it, then?” she looked a little surprised.

“Not entirely,” he replied, “but what I have read has been…” he fumbled for the right word, “intriguing.”  The inner voice rolled its eyes.   _Really?_

Aeslin shoved back from her desk, rolling her chair over to his cell.  The tilt of her eyebrow spoke volumes.  “Intriguing,” she repeated. “Not sure if that’s the word you’re looking for?”

“I always say what I mean.”

At least she didn’t laugh aloud at _that_ one. She merely mimicked his pose, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankle.  There was a large hole in one knee of her jeans.  Extensive scarring was evident on the skin beneath. The sight twisted his stomach a little.  He had no idea why it bothered him; he had seen (and inflicted) much worse. Feeling like a voyeur, he dragged his gaze from her leg to her face.  The moment had lasted only a couple of seconds, and there was no indication she had noticed. Aeslin merely clasped her hands on her stomach as she leaned back.  “Ask away, then, and remember that I reserve the right to tell you to shut up.”

“Noted.”  He reached over and picked up the book, flipping it open to an architectural illustration. “Your own?”

“Yes.  I do all my own drawings, when I can. It helps me process the information I’m trying to get out of my head.  I don’t do the maps, though.  I’ve never been able to do maps properly.  Many of the photos are mine, too, but not all of them.”

“I’m impressed,” Loki replied.  “It’s becoming a lost art among my people, I fear. Too reliant on other things.  But the photos,” he went on, the word strange on his tongue.  He flipped back to the page that had startled him so badly the night before.  The ache was less today, but still palpable. “Did you, for instance, make this one?”

She looked at the picture.  “Sadly, no. I wasn’t able to spend as much time on Faroe as I would have liked.  I don’t know if you can tell, or if you’ve gotten that far, but the work on that site was completed about ten years ago.  I did some work there during breaks when I was an undergrad, but that was all.  Most of what I remember is that it was beautiful.  Wild. Harsh. It could get so cold I would wear mittens to bed. But beautiful.” Aeslin focused on him, narrowing her eyes a little. “You’ve been there.”

He nodded.  “A very long time ago,” he replied, making it clear he would say nothing more about it.

“I’m sorry if it bothered you,” she said.

“It’s not your business,” he shot back. “And stop trying to find a weakness.”

“I’m not _trying_ anything.  It’s written all over your face.”  She ran a hand through her hair, clearly frustrated.  “I don’t mean to.  I promised I wouldn’t pry.  I’m not here to interrogate you.  But _you_ also have to understand that I’ve been trained most of my life to observe.  I’m an archaeologist.  I’ve spent years studying people. Learning to _see_.  You may not be human,” she continued, “but some things are universal.”

He was livid, mostly with himself. She had managed to upend him again. “Such as?”

There was no pity on her face, only a sort of compassion. It only made it worse. “Sorrow.  Loss.”

“You know nothing.” He sounded petulant, childish, even to himself.

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not.” She paused as if to say something more, then thought better of it. “We can finish later, if you’d like.”

Loki pulled himself together with some effort. “No,” he managed cordially. “I’d like to continue.”

“Glass and metal,” she said, before he could say more. “ _Q_ _uid pro quo._ It’s left over from the car accident.  I was trying to get a friend out, and I knelt just the wrong place. It didn’t hurt until later, but then it didn’t stop hurting for a long time.”

_I’m sorry I saw you stripped._

She _had_ noticed.  Loki should have known; she couldn’t _not_ see.

He was silent for a minute. “You were at all the sites?”

“At least briefly,” she replied.  “I was only in Turkey for about six weeks. I spent a year at the hospital reconstruction, off and on. That’s still ongoing, but they should end in the next few months. Most of my time was spent near Agneash, on the Isle of Man.  That’s where my own doctoral research took place.  During the excavation prior to beginning restoration, we discovered several partial manuscripts. Part of the work there is the conservation of those manuscripts, along with the church proper.  That’s the last section.”  She smiled a little. “I don’t want to ruin the ending for you.” She pushed her chair away then, wheeling back toward her desk.  “Besides,” she said, “Stark’s currently top of the leaderboard, and I think it would be wise for almost everyone in the building if someone takes him down before there’s bloodshed.” Aeslin turned to the screen, her back turned slightly to him.

Loki turned a few pages in the book. She wasn’t the only one who saw things; spending several lifetimes as Odin’s second-favorite had seen to that. “I’m sorry about your friend,” he said after a moment. “The one you couldn’t save.”

Her back stiffened, and he instantly regretted it. Her voice was cool when she finally spoke.  “Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean-”

She uncharacteristically cut him off. “I’m exercising my right.”

“Your-”

“Shut up.  Right now.”

She didn’t speak again for a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony can't spell, and Loki and his keeper come to an understanding.

Things were saved, relatively speaking, when Thor came down after dinner to relieve Aeslin.  She had barely spoken to him for the rest of the day, and when she had, it had been strained and awkward.  It was a bit of a blur, and Loki was reminded of those first days after she had become his jailor. His tricks, his questions, his tantrums.  His vast underestimation of the woman sitting on the other side of the glass. He was reminded of the long silences when she would finally have enough and threaten to mute him. His chest twisted a little. Throughout his imprisonment, waiting long days and weeks for his father to wake, there had been very little that was good.  From the start, she had treated him like a person, not a beast in a cage, and after a while, he had been grateful, in his own way. Now, with one conversation, it seemed that battle lines had been drawn again.

He played a few games with his brother, losing three in a row. Pleading exhaustion, he slept early. Aeslin’s book remained untouched on the table.

***

The next morning, she returned.  She greeted him, but seemed distracted and edgy. As she brought him his tray, she noticed that the receiving tray was already out.  On it sat her dissertation.

“Done already?” she said.

“You regretted your decision,” he replied simply. “The deal is off. I didn’t finish.”

Aeslin looked at the book for a long time, then picked it up, placed it back on the breakfast tray and sent the whole package back through.

“Damage done,” she said, almost to herself. Then louder, “I'm sorry. You meant well, and I reacted badly. It wasn't your doing." A beat. “Not entirely.”

“You don’t have to give it back. You have no obligation to me.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. "I don’t. My obligation to you ended the second I stopped being your doctor.  My only obligations now are to SHIELD, and to myself. Lucky for you, they're not always the same thing.”  She sighed. “This isn't what I signed up for.”

"That makes two of us." Loki took the book back. “Truce, then?”

She nodded. "Truce."

***

The day was calmer, except when Stark made it a point to bring lunch down and to ostensibly congratulate Aeslin on knocking him from the leaderboard. He good-naturedly presented her with a small trophy, explaining that it would have been larger if she hadn’t cheated.

“There’s no ‘a’ in Bosworth,” she retorted. “And you really should have known better than to pick that topic. Also, this is a bowling trophy. You _know_ how I feel about bowling.”

“As a matter of fact,” he said with a smirk, “I do. Rogers is trying to set up a rematch. Apparently he disagrees with my spelling of Cherbourg.”

“Well, since I’m pretty sure he’s been there, I’ll back him on both. No ‘s’. I thought you were a genius.”

“I’m also a billionaire. I have people that spell for me. I also have people that get things for me, which reminds me.  I left my drink in the other room.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” she replied.

“I left it on top of a box of absurdly expensive chocolate.”

She narrowed her eyes, then stood.  “You’re a hateful man, Tony Stark.”

He gave her the grin that worked on everyone else. She rolled her eyes and left the room.

Stark leaned back in her chair, dropping his feet on her desk with aplomb.

“Ready to confess?” he asked Loki.

“No need,” Loki replied, clasping his hands behind his back. “My sins are well documented.”

“All of them?”

“Ask the All-Father. I'm sure he’s kept a list. It’s probably lavishly illustrated. Lots and _lots_ of red and black.”

“He’s going to kill you, you know.”

“Perhaps.  And if he chooses to do so, my only hope is that he won’t try to help me see the error of my ways before he swings the axe. It’s always so predictable and boring.  Mostly boring.”

“Your only hope? So you don’t care if you live or die.”

Loki smirked. “I haven’t for quite some time.”

“For reasons very few of us can fathom, you might find yourself in the minority on that one,” Stark replied.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

A shrug. “Take it for what you want.  But I will tell you that occasionally hope comes from the damnedest places.  You might want to think on that, too.”

Loki stared at him. The silence was broken by Aeslin returning, holding a box of chocolates and carrying a bottle. She stopped dead. “Well, this is awkward.”

“This isn’t awkward,” Stark replied smoothly. He went to take the bottle from her. “But this _is_ open.”

She grinned.  “I have people too, billionaire. Go get yourself another. And take your trophy with you.”

He waggled the trophy at her as he walked out the door, mock-threatening.  “Oh-2100 o’clock,” he said. “Rematch. Prepare for destruction.”

The door closed behind him, and Loki stared at it for a long minute. Aeslin looked at the door, then at Loki.  

“Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he replied. “I’m fine.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude in which Thor brings news, and Frigga extends an invitation.

Less than a week before her dissertation defense, Aeslin was called into a meeting.  The transfer that evening had gone slower than normal, so she was a few minutes late.  She entered the room and the door sealed itself behind her.  Looking around the table, she realized she was alone with Thor and the director of SHIELD.  She took a seat across from the God of Thunder.

“The All-Father has woken,” the blond giant said without preamble.  “He wishes to have his son brought home so that he may answer to his crimes against his own people.”

“We’ve agreed to that already,” Fury told Aeslin. “Once his punishment is determined, we’ll see if there are additional charges he can face back on Earth for what he did in New Mexico.”

“If there’s anything left, you mean.” She shook her head, still unsure why she was in the meeting. “All right. What does this have to do with me, besides the end of my assignment?”

“Fury has told me a few things about you,” replied Thor. “Your role, your interests, your hobbies... history and architecture, for example."

Aeslin turned to Fury, her eyes narrowed. "A hobby?" she said icily. "A _hobby?_ A master's degree in architecture with a thesis so well received it's been published in an additional five languages isn't a _hobby_. What is the _matter_ with you?!"

Fury shrugged. “It is too,” he replied stoically.  “It just happens to be an extremely _expensive_ hobby.”  He didn’t flinch under her withering glare.  “You say potato.”

"Listen to me, you sociopathic cyclops. If you refer to my life’s work as a hobby one more time, I'm going to be saying a _lot_ more than potato. And I'll be saying it with my boot up your-"

Thor cleared his throat loudly. "Can we focus for just a moment, please?"

Aeslin whirled back to him. "Oh, I'm focused. I'm _plenty_ focused, thank you." She shot a glare back at Fury. " _Hobby,"_ she hissed.

“ _As_ I was saying," Thor continued, "I have also spoken with my mother at length about your treatment toward her son. She is very grateful, and we would like to offer you something in return."

"She’s very welcome," she replied. "I would have done the same for anyone."

Thor looked at her for a moment. "Yes, I believe you would have. That is a gift, and one for which you should be glad. But to continue. In celebration of your impending re-doctoring, and as you are a-" here he paused and looked sternly at Fury, " _Master_ of architecture and of history, my mother would like to invite you to Asgard. We have some of the most amazing structures built in all the Nine Realms, and we would be honored to show them to one who has done us a great service and would appreciate them in a way that not everyone can."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," he replied, looking a little surprised. He then seemed to realize what she was talking about. "I admit that those who will be... caring for my brother at home may be interested to hear your thoughts on any rehabilitation he has experienced. But your job will be finished."

She folded her arms and looked at Fury. "And do you agree it's finished?"

"I think you doctor types call it 'continuity of care.' We officially transferred his care to you. You trot on over the Rainbow Bridge, turn him over on the other side, and then spend a nice vacation looking at really tall buildings. I see it as a win-win." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him on the table. “Consider it a congratulatory gift for coming in under budget on this one."

Aeslin shrugged. “Third time’s the charm.” She turned to Thor. “And it's safe for humans to travel?"

Thor nodded. "It is. We have done extensive testing in the past, and it is perfectly safe. At one point in our history, it was quite common for both humans and Asgardians to travel back and forth with some regularity."

"Really? Because that would go a long way to explaining some things."

"Indeed. It's settled, then?" She nodded, and Thor slapped his hands on the table. "Excellent. We will leave the day after your mighty defense is complete. It will be a good time for celebration, and for decisions."

Aeslin leaned back in her chair, rocking it slightly back and forth. "What _will_ happen to your brother?"

"I cannot be sure. Odin does not share his mind on this, but his anger is great. Very few survive the wrath of the All-Father.”

There was silence for a minute, then Fury stood. "If it’s all settled, then this meeting is adjourned." He led the way out of the room, the others trailing in his wake. At the door, Thor stopped Aeslin with a hand on her arm.

"I will be down tomorrow to tell my brother," he said. "And I think, in his strange way, he will be glad of your company. He may not show it, but you have treated him well. I doubt he will soon forget it."

"I've been his jailer," she replied bluntly. "For his sake, I hope he _does_ forget it. If you'll excuse me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which gaming is serious business, and this ain't your mother's bridge club.

Something had changed; Loki knew it as soon as Thor entered the room. Aeslin was writing on several sheets of paper, feet tucked under her in the chair. Her workstation was dark. Loki had been reading her dissertation and was almost finished. Aeslin had told him that his brother was likely coming down, but she had given no other details. Thor nodded to her, then went over to Loki’s cell.

“Up for a game, brother?” Thor asked. “It will give you a chance to reclaim the ones you’ve lost lately.”

“Why not?” he responded. “I’m feeling much more alive today.” Suddenly emboldened, Loki turned to Aeslin.  “Would you care to join us?”

She looked up.  “I thought it was a two-god game.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “But perhaps you’d like to observe from closer?”

“I’ll leave you to it,” she shook her head. “I need to finish this before I go.”

Oddly disappointed, Loki watched through the glass as Thor set up the board. As usual, he would move for both of them, following Loki’s instruction during his turn. They began to play, Thor’s moves brash and quick and Loki’s more calculating.  After several moments, Thor spoke quietly.

“Father’s awake.”

Loki froze for a split second. _And so it ends._ “It’s about time,” he said, feigning a calm he didn't feel.

“I am to bring you home in six days.”

“So long?” Loki replied. “Prolonging his fun, is he?”

Thor shook his head. “He has much to do after he sleeps.  You know this. And he will have much to consider. Much as you may doubt it, anything that happens to you will not be a rash decision.”

Loki snorted. “That’s new.”

His brother shrugged. “There is also a wait on our end. Kindlesdaughter must finish her defense.”

A slow blink. “Why would that matter?”

They had stopped any pretense of playing. Thor glanced over at Aeslin, engrossed in her writing. “Because she’s coming with us. Mother asked me to bring her, and Father, after much… deliberation, agreed. As your keeper, there are things that she should tell, and mother would like to meet her.”

“Meet…” Loki trailed off helplessly.

“Also to show her our architecture. She believes that Kindlesdaughter, with her history, will appreciate Asgard’s grandeur more than most.”

“Architecture.” Loki suddenly felt as though he were standing on dissolving sand.

Thor shrugged. “To each their own. But hear this. Kindlesdaughter has given you kindness and respect. Her actions are not lost on our mother. You are Frigga’s son as well, though you may deny it when it suits you, and she loves you. She wishes to reward those who treat her sons well.”

Loki leaned back, his eyes going automatically toward Aeslin. Confusion rushed through him. He couldn’t deny that he was thankful to have her on his last journey.  His thoughts flashed back to the conversation with Stark. _Hope comes from the damnedest places._

His hope had been to die quickly. Now that thought deserted him, and he found himself left only with the hope that she wouldn’t have to watch Odin kill him.

***

Loki stumbled through the night in a sort of fog. When she came in the next morning, Aeslin did what she could to keep him occupied, but ran out of ideas in less than half an hour.  He could tell she was troubled but didn’t want to admit it, whether out of professionalism or something else. After two hours of floundering, he finally had an idea.

“Send a message to my brother,” he said.  “Ask if you can borrow his board.”

“You want to teach me _now_?”

“It may not be the best time,” he admitted, “but it’s at least a fair alternative to going mad. Besides, if my brother tries to teach you after I’m gone, you’ll be well on your way to being the worst player in all nine Realms. Through no fault of your own, of course.”

Aeslin did as he asked and quickly received a message in return. The board was sent down a short time later. Taking the box from the guard who delivered it, she came to stand in front of the cell door. She regarded him for a long moment, her face thoughtful. He found himself trying not to hold his breath.

“Can you play one-handed?” she asked suddenly.

“It’s awkward,” he said, “but yes. I’ve done it before.”

“Then sit down.” She gestured to the chair near the side of the room, the one built into the floor and walls, with the cuff to keep him seated.  He had never been able to move it, and early on in his imprisonment he had tried repeatedly. Fury had once bragged to him that the technology had been built to hold a Hulk, and Loki was just a giant. It hadn’t been used since Aeslin had stopped taking his blood; there had been no need.

He blinked, the pieces coming together.  He sat. Aeslin activated the cuff; it curled around his forearm with a familiar prickle. She then activated the door and stepped up into the enclosure. She hadn’t set foot in his cell in a long while; he was momentarily thrown off by having her in with him.

“You’re taller than I remember,” he managed lamely. _Oh,_ said his inner voice. **_Well_ ** _done._

“A good pair of boots will do that for a girl,” she replied as she put the heavy game box on the table and pushed the whole thing over to where he sat.  She pulled the other chair across from him and sat down. The door slid shut behind her, trapping them both inside.

“Are you sure this is wise?” he asked.

Aeslin lifted one eyebrow as she unlocked the box. “It just figures,” she sighed, “that you’d wait until _now_ to start worrying about little details like what’s smart and what’s not.”

He stared at her. “What?”

“Nothing. Who goes first?”

***

There was no such thing as beginner’s luck in Goblin’s Teeth. There was, of course, a small element of chance involved for both players, but the game itself was notorious for being absurdly harsh to the uninitiated. Most new players gave up within a handful of games; however, there were always those few who succeeded.  Those who had enough of an edge, and enough sheer stubbornness that they were able to learn through trial and viciously-punished error. Loki hadn’t completely pegged Aeslin as one of the former but was still unsure if she could be one of the latter. Knowing he had nothing better to do, he had decided to withhold judgment and teach her the basics. He toned back his game a bit to let her adjust, thinking that, as diversions went, this one wasn’t half bad.

She beat him for the first time at the fourth round. By the sixth, the beating had become a full-fledged trouncing the likes of which Loki hadn’t received in longer than he could remember. He studied the board for a few minutes after that one, trying to figure out exactly where he had gone wrong. They took a break, returning to their spots a short while later with mutual understanding. Aeslin glanced at the clock as she settled in, then looked across the board at him. “So,” she said, setting up her tiles, “are you really going to play this time?”

Loki felt a wolfish smile spread across his face. Typical. A thousand years playing the game. Less than a week to live.  And here at the last, he had finally, _finally_ met an equal.   He met her eyes as he picked up the smallest of the hourglasses, his smile growing a little more predatory. Turning it over in his fingers without taking his eyes off hers, he thumped it firmly into its spot on the board.

“Come on, then.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an end begins, and there is a slight misunderstanding as to what a thesis defense truly means.

Far above them, in a half-lit conference room, Loki’s brother sat at a large table by himself. Pages of closely written text were spread out in front of him, and he leaned back and rubbed his eyes. His gaze drifted to the display across from him, and he absently watched Loki and his keeper, their heads bent over the board between them. Thor had expressed some concern at first, but Fury hadn’t seemed bothered.  He had merely told Thor that Aeslin could take care of herself, and not to worry. There was no harm, much as the director hated to admit it, and even if there were, well, that’s why man invented kill switches. In the meantime, he had said, this was just a whistle past a very large graveyard.

Thor wasn’t sure entirely what that last part meant, and he had been less than happy to learn that Kindlesdaughter had even been _given_ a kill switch without his knowledge. Once the dust had settled, however, (both literally and figuratively) he had come to the realization that, of everyone in this Norn-forsaken building, if someone _had_ to hold the button (as Fury had put it), Thor could think of few better. He absently rubbed the broken skin on his knuckles as looked again at the papers on the table, and then his head jerked back up to look at the display as his mind finally sorted out what his eyes had been seeing.

Loki was losing.  Thor looked closer and saw that wasn’t the half of it.  His brother was getting _destroyed._ Disbelief washed over Thor, intensifying when he realized that Loki didn’t even seem bothered. For the first time in what seemed forever, Thor laughed.  Genuine, wholehearted laughter. He leaned back in the chair, worries gone for the moment as he watched his brother get himself pummeled by a slip of a mortal. After a few moments, he sent for food and drink. He guessed he wouldn’t be having this much fun again for quite some time, and the God of Thunder intended to enjoy every second.

***

The final tally stood at eleven games to him, nine to her, and one draw solved by Aeslin losing her temper and threatening to set both him and the board on fire. Loki had forfeited that one cheerfully, knowing in that moment that his opponent was truly worthy. She was leaving early in the morning and had taken small breaks throughout the day to finish the administrative details of her shift, as well as requisitioning a flight for the next day. Their last game complete, Loki looked at the clock. Her relief would come in moments.  She was gathering the dice, counting them carefully to make sure all 68 of them were accounted for.

“And so begins the end,” said Loki as he deftly organized the hourglasses with one hand. “If the past two days are any indication, you’re well prepared to defend yourself against anything. And if not...” he trailed off.

She laughed. “And if not, I’ll have no choice but to level the Midlands in retaliation.” The lid snapped shut. She pushed the table back to its original position, then picked up the box. Aeslin gave him a slight bow.

“Thank you for teaching me,” she said. “I hope you found it worthwhile.”

“Yes,” Loki replied simply. He suddenly found he couldn’t manage much more than that. She smiled again and stepped out of his cell.  She unlocked his cuff as soon as the door was sealed, and he rubbed his wrist gently as he watched her. Aeslin held the heavy box close to her body. Weeks of long shifts meant that he could read her face, though still not as easily as he would have liked. This was easy, though. She wanted to tell him that it would be fine.  That things would work out.

“No lies,” he said. “Take it from a master; you really are _no_ good at them.”

The door opened behind them; the aides had come to relieve her. “I’ll make sure the board makes it back to your brother,” she told him, “and I’ll see you in a few days.”

He nodded, and she turned to leave.  But as she reached the door, he found he couldn’t help himself.

“Fight well, Kindlesdaughter,” he said. “Leave nothing standing.”

Aeslin stopped for a moment, but didn’t turn around. A heartbeat later, the door had closed behind her.

***

The next morning, Aeslin stood in the hangar next to the Quinjet she had requisitioned. She hadn’t intended to fly herself, Thor knew, but had changed her mind late the night before. He hadn’t asked, and she hadn’t offered, except to reassure him that she had been flying since before she had learned to drive.

“Just a hop over to Martlesham,” she replied. “I’ll stay there overnight, then into Leicester the next day. Set up, defend the next morning, home by that night.”

“Surely you’ll want to celebrate,” he observed.

She laughed. “Maybe, but doubtful.  I know my fellow candidates.  I’m sure they’ll be starting a pub crawl by four in the afternoon, and by six Caruthers will be drunk enough that I’ll wish I’d brought a stun gun. It’s all right. My celebration will come later.”

“I wish you safe travels, then,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied simply.  “See you soon.”

Thor put a hand on her shoulder. “Soon enough. Be well, Kindlesdaughter.” He stepped back, allowing her to board, then backed away as she went through a pre-flight check. Soon after, she waved through the cockpit window, and he waved back as she lifted into the bright morning sun.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Involving a few most unwelcome visitors.

The next days were a blur to Loki. He ate, slept and paced his cell. The guards kept their silence, probably under orders, so his interaction was slight at best. His brother came to see him, but it was largely a visit to let him know that everything was on schedule. Loki spent the remainder of the day paging through the books and letters in his cell, rereading them for what seemed the thousandth time. On the third evening, his brother came for the shift change, trailed by a large contingent of Einherjar.  Loki started to his feet angrily, but Thor held up a hand.

“Peace,” he said. “It is Odin’s will that you are watched by his own men tonight, and Fury agreed. The plan has not changed; we depart early on the morrow.”

“So what you’re trying to say,” Loki said with an exaggerated sigh, “is that it is Odin’s will that I spend my last night on Midgard trapped in a cell and mocked by his lackeys.”

“They have been warned not to speak to you,” his brother replied, looking sternly at the men. “Mocking or otherwise.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Because that _always_ works.”

“Hold your peace,” Thor said again, quieter this time. “Don’t make this worse. This could be a very short, quiet night, or it could turn into something unpleasant. Read your books; read your letters. Do nothing to anger anyone.” As Loki made to speak again, Thor silenced him with an intent look. “ _Don’t_ ,” he repeated.  Loki’s brow knit. There was something about this Thor wasn’t telling him.  Probably couldn’t, knowing his father. Loki stayed silent.

Thor nodded as if approving Loki’s compliance. “I also bring a message for you, from your watcher.” He held up a slip of paper.

“You’ve read it, I assume?” Loki felt at least those words were safe.

“Yes. Nothing I didn’t already know.” He seemed deliberately dismissive. “They will call me if I am needed. I shall see you on the morrow.” Thor slipped the paper through the slot, then turned on his heel. He nodded to the guards who had taken up posts around the room, and the door sealed shut behind him.

Loki took his time, looking at each guard in turn. None would make eye contact. They were here as a show of force, and nothing but an empty ges- here he froze. A subconscious thought had gelled.

_Killed while trying to escape._

Odin was daring him. _Just try something. Anything. Save me the trouble of passing judgment on a wasted life._ Loki knew he could take the guards. He knew he might even win against his brother. But he also knew the precautions didn’t end there. His cell had been meant to subdue a Hulk and had been easily adapted to be able to subdue a single frost giant. Suddenly, his brother’s meaning became clear.

_Anger no one, and you survive this night, at least. It is the will of the All-Father._

He prowled back and forth a few minutes, shoving down his rage into a tiny, white-hot flame. This would not be the end. He would meet Odin face to face, whether the All-Father liked it or not. Loki was not the only one in need of judgment. His eyes fell on the slip of paper that sat on the empty tray. He slumped back onto his cot as he opened the message and felt a tiny bit of the anger ebb away. Her handwriting was distinctive; flowing, if slightly cramped, owing to years of writing characters on the smallest of artifact fragments.

**_The Midlands still stand. Minimal pillaging required. I thought you might like to know._ **

Loki folded the paper and placed it carefully near the light next to his bed. For the moment, he could ignore the sentinels in the room. He lay back and closed his eyes, forcing himself into a light sleep. It came quicker than he expected, bringing with it images of windswept cliffs and pale stones standing beneath a cloudy sky.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki goes home, and there is a changing of the guard.

The next morning, the aides came to his room first. Still conscious of the silent guards all around him, Loki cleaned up quickly and was given a new set of clothes and boots, courtesy of his brother. He dressed in the Asgardian clothing, feeling as though he were girding for battle. Silently, he sat down in the chair again after they left, waiting to see what would be next.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, his brother walked in, sweeping up the guards in his wake as he came over to the cell. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw Aeslin enter the room behind the men. She took a position next to the door and leaned against the wall with her arms folded; he guessed she was there to ensure there were no last minute illusions. Her face was unreadable from where he sat. Thor opened the door to his cell and gestured for his brother to step down. For the first time in months, Loki emerged from his prison and into the main room. The guards wasted no time as they efficiently chained him - wrists, ankles, waist. A metal gag was fitted over his mouth.  Thor nodded to two guards, who held the chains firmly. “Let’s go.”

At least his brother didn’t rush. Loki was able to walk almost normally across the large room and past the dark workstation. Aeslin straightened as he neared, but she barely made eye contact. She followed a few steps behind Loki as Thor led the group from the room, through the guards’ anteroom, and into a hallway. They took a large elevator up in silence. As they came past the ground floor, Loki tried not to squint as the sun poured through the glass on two sides of the car. The elevator rapidly ascended, the light coming and going as they climbed the side of the building. Eventually, they emerged in another hallway at the very top and walked out onto a unused landing pad. Fury stood with a few other people near the center.

“Are you ready?” the director asked. “Because I sure am.”

“Yes,” Thor replied. “We are ready.”

The director turned his gaze to Aeslin. “Dr. Kindle.” Aeslin stepped forward, looking small among the armored escort. Fury continued. “Do you confirm that this is, in fact, the prisoner? No tricks. No illusions.”

“Yes,” she agreed, looking over at Loki. She seemed different here, out in the light. He had never seen her outside the confines of their shared cell, but he watched her as she stood on the landing pad.  It was windy this high up, and Aeslin pulled her jacket closer around her with one hand while she pushed hair away from her face with the other.  She regarded him for a second, a simple clinical glance. He wondered if she felt freer, knowing that her task was near its end. He wasn’t sure; her face still held a little of the look it had had down in the cellblock. She turned back to Fury. “No tricks, no illusions. One adopted son of Odin, ready for delivery.”

“Then our work here is done.” Fury and his retinue made their way to the entrance of the landing pad, stopping near the sheltered entrance.  The wind picked up, and Loki felt the beginnings of a familiar tug as Bifrost took hold. Thor stepped closer to Aeslin, holding out an arm.

“You’d better hold on,” his brother told her. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost.” Loki saw her take a step closer, and then everything blurred as he and his guards were pulled across the bridge.

Even bound, he felt the exhilaration that came from riding between the Realms. Although his time in the Void had dampened his view of the cosmos, this, at least, was something that could never get old. The journey ended too quickly, and he found himself at the other end, standing in front of Heimdall once again.  The guardian wasn’t looking at Loki and his guards, though; his attention was on the pair that had come in just after them. Loki turned his head slightly to see behind him.  At the edge of his vision, he saw his brother coming up to greet the guardian. Aeslin had stopped dead.

“I’ve been expecting you, mortal,” said Heimdall. “Don’t be afraid.”

His voice seemed to startle Aeslin, and she stepped forward. “You’re Heimdall.”

The keeper of Bifrost nodded. “You’ve heard of me.”

Encouraged, she walked forward a few steps more. She came into Loki’s line of sight, standing several feet to his left and in front of the guardian. The contrast between the two was almost ludicrous, Heimdall in his heavy armor and Aeslin in her laced boots, jeans and coat. “I’m a historian,” she said easily. “I think I remember a few chapters on you here and there.” Aeslin paused, tilting her head slightly to one side. She stepped closer still, and Heimdall was forced to look down even further.

“You’re real, then,” she said.

“As real as you,” he replied.

She looked at the sword in his hands. “May I-”

“No,” he said, not unkindly.

Aeslin nodded. “That’s fair.”

Heimdall chuckled and shook his head. “Is there _no_ fear in you, child?”

“You tell me.” Her voice was light, but she looked at him intently, green eyes meeting gold.

The giant did laugh at that one, a sound Loki wasn’t sure he’d ever heard. Heimdall turned to Thor. “A worthy find,” he told him. “How did you manage?”

Thor shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t. She is her own creature, all through.”

“This I see,” replied Heimdall, turning back to Aeslin.  He stepped aside, and the doorway behind him opened. “Well then, little one. Welcome to Asgard.”

Loki nearly rolled his eyes at the theatrics, but then he saw Aeslin take a small, involuntary step forward. He could see her face in profile as she stopped again, staring at the scene before her. Wonder painted her features as she looked on Asgard for the first time. She stared silently, and Loki suddenly realized she was fighting back tears. Aeslin turned her head to look at him, and for that brief second, he understood why she had chosen the path she had. It was in her blood. Her bones. He saw joy and awe as in that tiny moment, her soul was laid almost bare. He found himself unaccountably ashamed that he had seen.

The moment was broken as Thor walked between them. “You’ll like it even better up close,” he said, taking her arm as he moved forward. She seemed to shake herself free of the moment, allowing Thor to lead her to the head of the bridge that spanned the distance to the city. Loki noticed now that two small skiffs were pulling toward the edge. Thor gestured to Loki, and he followed him slowly, the guards trailing behind him.

Thor beckoned to two in the group that had arrived on the crafts, and as they came nearer, Loki recognized both of them. He inwardly groaned, but kept his gaze neutral.

“Sif,” said Thor, indicating the woman, “and Fandral.” Here the bearded newcomer bowed. “They will be your guides for now, until you are needed. I trust them with my life, and they will treat you with kindness and respect.” He gestured to a third man who had joined them. “This is Sel. He will be taking over your duties.”

The older man looked Aeslin up and down. “ _Y_ _ou_ have been his keeper?”

Momentarily taken aback, Aeslin recovered quickly and drew herself up. “Yes. He has been in my care.”

“Your duties are ended,” Sel stated flatly. “You are thanked for your service. I will take the prisoner now.”

Thor had obviously told her what needed to be done. She walked back to the guards holding Loki’s chains and was ceremoniously handed both of them. He knew they were heavy, but she gave no sign as she led him toward his new jailor. Stopping in front of Sel, she held out the ends of both chains in one hand. “My duties are ended,” she repeated. “I give him to you.”

Sel took the chains brusquely. “It is done.” He handed the ends back to the guards without hesitation, turning to walk back toward the first skiff. “Bring him.”

“This is where I leave you, for now,” Thor said, falling in with Aeslin as they walked behind Loki. “Sif and Fandral will bring you to your rooms near the palace and will show you around. My mother should send for you soon, but in the meantime, there are many places for you to see. These two will make sure of that.” He leapt to the prison skiff, rocking it slightly.

Fandral offered Aeslin his arm, ever the dashing escort. “Right this way, my lady.” Leading her to the second boat, he helped her to the prow of the vessel. Loki could hear him telling her it was the best view. She laughed at something one of the two said, then stood at the prow facing the golden city on the horizon. The craft pulled away, and Aeslin never looked back.

Thor piloted the craft away from the bridge after one final wave to Heimdall. Loki straightened his back, pushing all thoughts of the mortal from his mind as he turned his face toward Asgard, and to the end.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Short Interlude. (Or: You don't ask a goat for advice. So what happens when they give it to you anyway?)

Odin was standing near the window, staring out at the palace grounds when Thor walked in.  He glanced at the leather scroll case in his son’s hands. “What else have you brought to trouble me?”

“The report from Loki’s watcher,” Thor replied.

“Ah. The mortal you brought with you. The one your mother is so interested in; I believe they are currently touring the Queen’s gardens.”

“Mother is proud of those, and she is grateful, as I’m sure you know. The mortal, Dr. Kindle, treated him with kindness and dignity. Likely more than he deserved.”

“Kindness and dignity.” Odin turned to his son, his eye narrowed. “And did she treat him with deference? Reverence? Seduced by his tricks, his illusions, his lies, like all mortals. Why should I care about her?”

Thor shook his head. “She treated him with neither. And he did try his tricks in the beginning.”

Odin scoffed. “ _O_ _nly_ in the beginning? I very much doubt that.”

“They didn’t work,” said Thor. “Not on her.”

Something in his voice gave his father pause. “Go on.”

Thor deposited the scroll case on the table and walked to the window near his father. “The mortals have no clear explanation for it. Dr. Kindle herself does not know the reason why, nor does she care, I think.  But somehow, Loki’s sorcery does not work on her. His visions, his tricks - they mean nothing to her. With her gift, whatever it is, she sees through them like glass. It is the reason she was made his watcher, against what seemed better judgment.”

A long pause. “A worthy gift, indeed,” Odin said at last, almost to himself. He looked at his son, a canny expression on his face.

“There is more, is there not? There is always more.”

Thor leaned against the sill, folding his arms. He looked past his father, down into the gardens below.  They were too high to make out many details, but the effect was still remarkable. “She plays Goblin’s Teeth.”

“What does that matter?” Odin stopped himself for a moment, brief confusion on his face. “You taught her? A mortal?”

“ _Loki_ taught her. He learned that you were awake and needed to occupy his mind with something besides the inevitable, I think. She allowed it as a reward for good behavior.” Here Thor paused. “She not only played.  She learned, and she defeated him. Frequently and thoroughly.”

“A game,” Odin replied dismissively. “You’ve beaten him as well.”

Thor was already shaking his head. “I am a son of Asgard. Of _you_. I learned the game at Frigga’s knee, long ago. Truth be told, I can count my recent victories over Loki on less than two hands.”

“This means something to you.”

“It does.”

Odin stared out the window, hands braced on the wide stone windowsill. “Tell me, then. Tell me why it matters.”

“It tells me that there is wisdom in her. It tells me she has a quickness of mind. And it tells me that she understands how my brother thinks.”

His father did look at him, then. Thor ignored him and went on. “Kindlesdaughter does not agree with my brother, nor does she believe that his actions should go unpunished. She has made that very clear to me, and I am sure if you read her missive that she will tell you the same thing. She does not agree,” he repeated, “but she sees many of the paths that his mind takes. I think it unwise to dismiss such insight.”

“You words are noted,” Odin said after a moment, his voice brusque. He turned back to look out the window. “You may go.”

He heard his son leave, but didn’t move at once. He continued to stare across the gardens, his gaze on the bridge, so recently repaired. Finally, he turned back to the table, sitting in the large chair at its head. The scroll case lay where Thor had left it, and Odin looked at it for a long time before pulling it toward him with an unwilling hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (the beginning note is a reference to T:TDW, in which Odin refers to Jane (a mortal) as a goat at a banquet. Frigga talked him in to letting a mortal into Asgard, but that doesn't mean he has to be _happy_ about it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family reunions are always so... awkward.

Sel and several guards came for Loki a few days later.  The days had been long; there were very few furnishings in his cell, and nothing to do but ruminate.  His mother had sent a projection of herself the night before to talk, but Loki had been in no mood to listen to platitudes and had had little to say. She seemed to understand, and had gone after only a few moments.

Loki was taken to the throne room in the same chains he had worn across the bridge. The gag had been replaced for the walk through the nearly-empty hallways of the palace; he hoped it would be removed before his father spoke to him. He found himself not sure that it would. Perhaps he would be forced to listen to Odin droning on and on with no hope of responding. Perhaps his execution would be immediate; a blinding, split second of pain, and then nothing. Loki had almost decided which would be the more preferable outcome when they arrived at the doors and were shown through.

The room was empty save for Odin, who sat on his throne, and Frigga, who stood at the bottom of the stairs, and Loki felt a tiny spark of relief. Frigga glanced at her husband, then at her son. At a gesture from Odin, she left the room with Sel and several guards, leaving only two holding Loki’s chains. The doors closed solidly behind them. Odin made a dismissive motion with his hand, and the metal gag fell from Loki’s face and clattered to the ground, the sound echoing through the huge space.

Nothing was said for a moment. Odin stared at his younger son, his face dark. Finally Loki spoke, his voice rough from neglect.

“If I’m for the axe, then for mercy’s sake, just swing it and be done.”

“ _Silence.”_ His father’s voice cut across his. Odin continued to stare at his son, his eye piercing. The seconds crawled by until he spoke again.

“Mercy.” He scoffed. “ _Mercy_. How dare you.” He stood, outlined against the light behind him, his face in shadow as he came down a few steps. “Disruption across all the Realms. War. Betrayal. Ruin, both here and in Midgard, with whom we had no quarrel. Usurpation of the throne. Regicide. Attempted murder. The very destruction of Bifrost. And you ask for mercy?”

Loki had had enough. “I was not the one to destroy the bridge.”

Odin laughed, hard and sharp. “No. That was your brother. An attempt to prevent you from committing genocide, if you remember, and one in which he was only partially successful. Much of the damage had already been done by the time he acted. Regardless, the fault is still yours. Another pile of bloodied rubble in your wake.” He shook his head. “All this to gain a throne which was never yours to claim in the first place.”

“It is my birthright.”

“You _have_ no birthright!” Odin exploded. “Your only _birth_ right was to be left on that altar to die!”

“And you took even that away.”

They regarded each other across the quiet that followed, until Odin spoke, his voice calmer.

“Do you know why you still live?”

Loki was getting angrier by the moment. “Because your plan on Midgard failed? Because, unlike my brother, I know when to keep my mouth shut?”

“ _Do_ you?” snapped the All-Father. “Are you _certain_ of that?”

“I was merely answering a question.” Loki raised chained hands in false supplication. “But if my answer was the wrong one, please, enlighten me at the very least. Why _do_ I live when we both _so_ clearly have no use for me?”

“Frigga.”

Loki’s hands dropped. Odin went on.

“Your mother has made her feelings about your welfare quite clear. She believes there is still hope for you.”

_-He is suddenly back in the cell with Aeslin. His voice is sharp. “I need no redemption. I need no approval. Not from him.”_

_“From anyone?”_

_From Frigga.-_

“And she is not the only one,” Odin continued.

Loki feigned a bit of surprise. “Who, then? Who _dares_ question the mind of the All-Father?”

“Your brother.”

The armor of Odin’s gauntlet gleamed in the light as he threw something at his son. Unable to help himself, Loki lifted his hands in a defensive gesture as a leather scroll case struck the floor just in front of him, spilling its contents across his feet. He looked down, his hands slowly lowering. A distinctive script. Cramped from years of writing on tiny, fragile surfaces.

“Your _keeper_.”

_-The cell. His brother sets the board up across the glass.  “Would you care to observe?”_

_“I have to finish.”-_

It came to him in a shock that nearly sent him to his knees.

He had hated her. He had mocked her. He had belittled her. In turn, she had upended him repeatedly. She had beaten him at his own game.

And then she had tried to save him.

He lifted his head. Odin stared down at him.

“You do not die this day,” the All-Father said. “Although someday soon, I think you may wish you had. I will make sure of that." He gestured to the guards, one of whom replaced the metal band on Loki’s unresisting face. "Bring him.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another homecoming.

Aeslin stood with Frigga and Thor in Heimdalls’ chamber. Behind her stretched the bridge to Asgard, before her the universe. She suddenly felt very small.

“Are you ready to return, Kindlesdaughter?” Thor’s voice was quiet.

She nodded, turning her back on the Void.  “I am.” Aeslin faced Frigga and her son, instead. “Thank you,” she said, still feeling a little awkward in the Queen’s presence. “This has meant the world. You truly have honored me.”

Frigga smiled. “I have been glad to know you.” The Queen placed a hand on Aeslin’s cheek. “I know what you did, although I do not know what effect your words had in the end.” She paused. “You tried to save my son. For that, little one, you will always have my gratitude.”

Aeslin didn’t know how to respond, so she merely inclined her head slightly. Frigga stepped back near Heimdall. “I will see you soon, my eldest. And to you, Aeslin Kindle, may you have safe travels.”

The light grew almost painful, and then Aeslin felt herself pulled backwards into the Void. A few moments of exhilaration as she flew through the stars - she would never get used to that - followed by a sudden, painless stop on the landing pad at SHIELD. She blinked in the watery sunlight, seeing Fury and a few others standing near the door. She felt a strange sense of deja vu, as though she had never left.

“Welcome back, Doctor,” the director said. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“Thank you.” She walked toward him, trying not to show how unsteady her legs felt. Aeslin had only made it a few steps when the wind started again. Turning around, she realized that Thor wasn’t behind her; he hadn’t left the spot where he had landed.  She looked up, realizing suddenly that another gate was opening. “But what-”

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence before a wind blew her off her feet and another bridge came rocketing down to the landing pad. She forced her head around against the gale. The storm stopped as suddenly as it had come, dropping a familiar figure to the landing pad. Loki.

Aeslin felt a hand pulling her to her feet; Thor had seen her fall. She glanced at him, then back in time to see Loki collapse. He managed to catch himself on one hand, the other wrapped around his body. She could see him shaking from the strain of keeping himself up. Automatically, she stepped forward, but Thor’s hand tightened around her arm.

“Stay where you are. He will not want your aid.” His voice was low, just above a whisper. He, too, was watching his brother.

She stared, helpless and more than a little rattled. “I thought he was dead. No one told me. No one _told_ me. I thought your father…”  her mind unaccountably sluggish, she trailed off. “What’s happening?”

“He was not slain. My father listened at the last. Though now that I see, I wonder if death might have been more merciful.” He glanced down and saw her incomprehension. “My father has banished him. He has been abandoned on this world and cannot set foot on another. He has been forever stripped of his sorceries and power.” Thor paused, as if trying to remember the exact words. “Odin has left my brother as he found him. He has restored his birthright.”

“What does that mean?”

“He left him to die.” Thor looked back at the kneeling figure. “My brother is mortal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I didn't tell her. Did you tell her? I thought you told her."  
> "Nope. I thought you were going to."  
> (awkward silence)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki gets what he deserves.

_He waits with the guards in a skiff, out of sight of those in the main chamber. Loki hears a few snatches of words but cannot make them out. There is the familiar light, then silence. He is pulled roughly from the skiff and brought forward. His mother stands quietly next to Heimdall. Loki’s face is unbound, but he only nods in greeting._

_“Find hope.” The words are quick and hushed, and he realizes she has likely been forbidden to speak to him. She goes on, her eyes intent on his. “You will want vengeance. You will want death. You will have neither.” She takes a jagged breath. “Odin may cast you aside. I cannot, but I cannot help you, either. Do not give up. Find hope, if only for my sake.”_

_“ **Y**_ ** _our_ ** _sake?” His own voice is a whisper._

 _“I will not lose you again,” she hisses fiercely. “I_ **_will not_** _. Do you understand? You are my_ **_son_** _.”_

_“No,” he replies, even as his voice falters. “I’m not.”_

_Her face falls a little then, suffused with sorrow, love and a strange pride. She reaches out to touch his face, but drops her hand almost immediately and takes a step away. Her eyes flick to the side, where Odin is stepping off a boat with a small group of his counselors. They gather at the side of the chamber nearest the bridge, witnesses to Loki’s sentencing._

_Odin stands before him, Gungnir clutched in his right hand. “Loki of Jotunheim. Son of Laufey. For your crimes, numerous and abhorrent as they are, you are hereby banished from Asgard to the Realm of mortals, where you will dwell for the rest of your days. You will not set foot here again, nor on any other Realm without my say. You will not see Frigga again.” He stops, and for a moment, he looks almost kind. “But fear not, child,” he says. “I will not leave you empty-handed.”_

_“And after all you said,” Loki responds, his bravado pulled to the surface as he fights down a mix of panic and weariness, “what could you possibly think to give me now?”_

_The All-Father smiles, harsh and cold._

_“Your birthright.”_

_Odin strikes the butt of the spear against the floor with an echo, and Loki’s brows knit. Behind him, Bifrost begins to open. In a single motion, Sel steps smoothly forward and kicks him backward into the light._

_There is no joy this time. No familiar exhilaration. Only pain - a raw, clawing, searing pain the likes of which Loki has never experienced. Every second seems an eternity as he tumbles down the bridge in free-fall. He can hear nothing but feels himself screaming until he wonders if he has a voice at all._

_Suddenly, it is over. Through a red haze, Loki feels himself land feet-first, on legs that immediately refuse to support him. He falls to his knees, throwing out one hand to catch himself as the other curls around his body, trying to stop the crushing ache that still pulses through him. His body shakes with the effort of holding himself up, but he will not give in. He focuses on the pattern left by the bridge in the metal below him. Dimly, he realizes that his chains are gone. And then, through the fog, another realization._

**_Every_** _thing is gone. There is nothing left in him but the pain that is slowly ebbing away. With each heartbeat, with each breath, it becomes clearer._ Your only birthright was to die _. Odin has stripped him down, as helpless as he found him, and left him to the mortals._

You do not die this day.

_An emptiness spreads through him, an unwelcome darkness that only seems to amplify the pain already inside. His magic, his power - for all he knows, his near-immortality - scraped away in a matter of seconds. Desolation creeps along the edges of what remains._

You may wish you had.

_He closes his eyes, wanting to slip into the blackness threatening to claim him. His head sinks lower as he uselessly fights against the hot tears that shove through his lashes. Even those sting. The All-Father has been thorough. The thought angers him, and he clenches his teeth as he raises his head. He forces his eyes open, blinking through the pain, tears and sunlight. Figures swim into view. A smudge further back - several figures standing close together. Of course Odin will have given this moment an audience. Private humiliation would not be enough. He looks at the closer figures. Loki recognizes his brother even before he is truly in focus; the God of Thunder doesn’t need much detail. But the smaller figure next to him- his stomach drops._

_Not her. Not now_.

_She is there nonetheless, her edges growing sharper with each breath he takes. He takes in her expression in a single glance. There is no pity in her face. No sympathy._

Of course not _,_ _comes the voice_ _._ You think she could see before? What is there to hide now? Nothing. She was nothing. She **is** nothing. And now, **you** are even less.

_She looks at him intently. After a second, he realizes she is saying something, but instinctively, he knows she is talking to him and not to his brother, who still holds her arm. He knows then that his brother cannot hear. With no voice, she repeats the words again._

Get up.

_His eyes narrow slightly._

Stand.

_Not pity. Not sympathy. Anger._

Not like this. Get **up**.

_The weight on his shoulders is impossible to bear. He is too weak. His head droops, and he closes his eyes. An image of Sel flashes in the blackness. Loki’s eyes fly open, and he forces himself to look at her again. He drops his other hand to the ground, his body weeping in exhausted protest with every movement. At last, he feels strong enough to let go of the ground. He focuses on her as he pushes himself upright, straightening legs that threaten to give way again at any moment. He stands, wavering slightly in the wind that constantly sweeps across the landing pad._

_The moment he comes to his feet, the blurs behind Aeslin and his brother begin moving - medics and guards. His presence has not been a surprise, then. They brush past the pair, snapping into focus as they come for him. White coats and black armor swirl around him, blocking his view as he is escorted across the landing pad. His brother falls into step behind them, and Loki finds himself searching the faces around him for hers._

_She is nowhere to be found._

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another small interlude.

The 45th floor lounge was nearly empty at this time of day. Aeslin sat on the window seat with her legs stretched in front of her, staring out at the rain tapping on the glass. It had been drizzling since early the night before, cold and gentle. A magazine lay forgotten on her lap. Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Coulson coming into the room. He headed for the coffee machines on the bar that ran along one wall, selecting his flavor and filling the cup. Two shots of caramel. Three creams. A long day, then. He stirred idly, waiting for it to cool, and stared out the window past Aeslin.

“You remind me of my mom sometimes,” he said without preamble. “Did I ever tell you that up until the time I was sixteen, I thought she was a mutant? She could see through walls. She could read my mind. She could see the future. She knew exactly what I was going to do before I ever even thought of it.”

Aeslin turned slightly from the window. “I’ve only met her a couple of times. Is she?”

“Nope. She was mom to a boy. She didn’t have to be anything else.” He took a sip of coffee. “Not what I planned to say.” Another sip. “But that’s okay. As I got older, I realized a few things about my mom, one of which is that my mom is better at doing than she is at being. She’s improved over the years at both, and she’s embraced retirement with both hands.” Sip. “She spends a lot of time on cruise ships now, I think in part because there’s always something going on. But growing up, there was always something to see. Always somewhere to go. Always something that needed doing.” He swirled the cup a little as he thought. “But there were those times when there was nothing to be done. When she just had to _be_. And in those moments, she always looked just like you do now.” Aeslin was silent as he took another drink. “It finally dawned on me a couple of years ago that she hadn’t always been like that. Just after Dad was gone.”

He looked down as if addressing his half-full cup of coffee. “A nine-five-one came through a bit ago,” he said casually. “Keller still hasn’t been cleared, so I’m left with an empty pilot’s chair. You want it?”

Aeslin swung her legs to the ground, tossing her magazine to the side. She looked at him with a mix of gratitude and relief. “I do.”

Coulson snapped a lid over his unfinished coffee. “Thought you might.” An understanding grin touched his eyes as he gestured to the door. “C’mon. I’ve already got your bag.”

***

Coulson sat in the copilot’s chair with headset and sunglasses on. He wasn’t technically allowed to be sitting in the cockpit at all, but Aeslin had never much cared, provided he kept his hands well away from the controls. She liked the company. Phil waited a few minutes until they were past SHIELD airspace, then slipped a small card into a waiting slot on the control panel. The mission coordinates appeared on Aeslin’s readout, and after confirming, she banked the Quinjet south and a little east, moving further out over the water.  Coulson leaned back, tightening the straps across his chest. Compared to some of the others, Aeslin’s flying style was pretty restrained, but she’d also been in one hell of a mood for the past day or so. Better safe than sorry.

“What do you think?” he asked casually.

“I didn’t realize the K4s were in use yet,” she replied.  “A little bigger.  Some differences in handling, but I like it.”

Coulson smiled in return. “I thought you might. We’ve got two of them on the line now, with one more due before the end of the year.  Less cargo space, but smarter cargo space.  It can hold almost as much with less drag.” There was silence for a moment. “How was your trip?”

“Amazing. Mindblowing. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I never will again.”

“Right,” he said patiently. “But did you like it?”

Aeslin smiled, eyes covered by dark glasses. “You know me too well.” She paused. “It _was_ beautiful,” she finally admitted. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen, but it was cold, too. Almost as though they were building for the sake of building, or for the sake of an amazing first impression. Under a lot of it, there just wasn’t much of anything.”

He nodded. “I think I see what you mean.”

“There was one place, though. Frigga took me there.  It was called the Queen’s garden; apparently one of Odin’s ancestors built it as a wedding gift for his new bride. It was beyond words. Incredible detail, but so simple and beautiful. There are flowers there that won’t grow anywhere else in the Realms, from what she told me. They’ve tried, and no one has any idea where he got them. I could have stayed there the entire time and been completely at peace. It made the whole trip worth it. I think.”

It was quiet in the cockpit for a few minutes as the sea flew beneath them. Coulson finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You should never have been given that assignment.”

A resigned shrug. “Fury was over a barrel, and he knew it.”

“How long were you down there?”

“Fifteen hours a day, more or less. 85 days, plus the dissertation. Not that I counted or anything.”

“A long time,” he said. “Especially in that room.”

She nodded. “Still not a record, though.” Aeslin shifted slightly.

“Phil?” she asked after a moment. Her voice was quiet.

“Hmm?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

Coulson looked over at her; the set of her jaw was suddenly a little too familiar.

“Yeah, kid,” he said. “We absolutely can.”

  
  
  
  



	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misery loves company. It just won't admit it.

_It is strange to have a window after all this time. He stares out into the warm summer morning, hands clasped behind him and mood black. He somehow feels as though there should be rain. Snow. Hail. Locusts._ ** _Some_** _thing_ _besides the peaceful, golden light breaking through the canyons of the city around him._

_He is unused to these new rooms, so different from his cell. A door that opens whenever he wishes, though there is little beyond it he wants to see. Clothing he can choose, for the most part, though his Asgardian garb was taken from him upon his return. They had brought him to what they had called an examination room. They had checked him for injuries. They had asked him how he felt. They had asked him what he wanted, and he had told them._

_He had spent the next four days on suicide watch. Every movement observed. Every word recorded. His clothing taken from him and replaced by yet another set of scrubs and a single blanket. His shoulder still aches from where he dislocated it while trying to break the restraints they had so kindly applied in an attempt to keep him from hurting himself._

_He could have told them there was no need. He could have told them that he would never kill himself. He could have told them that even if he_ **_did_ ** _plan to give Odin that one final victory, he certainly wasn’t going to use the shirt that was his last link to home to do it._

_But the words had vanished, swallowed up in the sudden tempest of a familiar, blinding headache. They had emerged on the other side in a knotted heap, and in the end, it had taken him three days to sort through the mess and say what he meant to. When he had, they had finally given him his own rooms, tucked near the end of a hallway on a floor midway up the building. They had given him a message from his brother, hastily written in the moments before the All-Father called him back to Asgard._

_He destroyed the letter after the first reading, unable to stomach the hopelessly banal and theoretically encouraging contents more than once. The shreds are still tucked neatly in the corner of a drawer, waiting for the first flames Loki can get his hands on._

_He has no idea where he might find some. He only knows that there are none to be had in his rooms, and he has not yet cared enough to set foot beyond the door to look elsewhere._

_A small chime sounds, and for a moment he cannot place it. He ignores it instead. It comes again, followed by a sharp knock. He should continue to dismiss it, he thinks, until he realizes that they may come in regardless. They have already proven they will, and so he stalks to the door, opening it more abruptly than he intends to._

_She is standing in the hallway, and he stares at her for a moment. He has not seen her since that moment on the landing pad, and he is briefly perplexed; he has no idea what to say to her. He knows he should say something. Anything. She did try to save him, after all. It’s not her fault that the All-Father listened. It’s not her fault that her words helped give Odin exactly the excuse he needed. It’s not her fault that Loki stands before her, stripped, pathetic and feeling himself crumble to dust with every passing moment. It’s not her fault that he is empty of everything but shadows and broken things. It’s not her fault._

_Except it is. Just as it is Thor’s. Just as it is Frigga’s. But they aren’t there. They aren’t standing before him in the harsh lights of the corridor, hands in pockets and hair tumbling free. They are not there, and she is._

_“Come to offer condolences, have you?”_

_She meets his eyes with a sort of resignation. “No.”_

_He gives her a smile that contains absolutely nothing. “Good.” He walks away, heading back to the obscenely cheerful square of sunlight on the floor. He leaves the door open. “Then what_ **_are_ ** _you doing here?”_

_She takes a single step into the room, and he can tell she does so almost against her will. “You tell me,” she says._

_He gives her a look of pity over his shoulder. “I have no idea,” he replies, not bothering to keep the condescension out of his voice. “I certainly didn’t send for you.”_

_“I came back from assignment to several messages that say otherwise.”_

_He stops for a split second. Three days of chasing words. Three days of saying things he almost remembers. Three days of madness._

_Carefully recorded madness._

_He shuts his eyes for a second, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he wonders when the humiliation will stop. He forces the same vacant smile onto his lips as he faces her again._

_“A misunderstanding,” he says through gritted teeth. “You may go.”_

_“May I?” she repeats, and he is not sure he likes the way the words sound coming from her. “You were quite insistent, from what I understand.”_

_“I said leave.”_

_“Fine.” She shrugs, and he realizes that she actually intends to do so._

_He scoffs a little. “And here I didn’t think you’d go without a fight.”_

_“Well, much as I’d_ **_love_ ** _to sit around and watch you self-destruct,” she replies coolly, turning back to the open door, “I have other things to do. I don’t have to stay here; it’s not my job anymore. I’m not your jailer. I’m not your watcher.”_

_“You’re right,” he says, unable to stop himself. “You’re nothing. Just like everyone else on this forsaken little ash heap.”_

_He can almost see the words hit her, just beneath her shoulder blade. His aim, at least, has not suffered._

_She stops dead, her fingers on the door handle, sighing as her head sinks just a bit. She closes the door almost quietly, shutting out the noise of the hallway._

_“Oh,” she says gently. “You_ _bastard.”_


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When ordered to leave by a banished demigod so livid he’s practically a force of nature, there are many things a person can say.
> 
> In retrospect, “make me” might not have been the wisest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: When she’s stationed in New York, Aeslin basically lives in the 45th floor lounge when she’s not on duty in the infirmary or working somewhere else. She has a room in the SHIELD building, like many others who work there, but it’s down closer to street level. She much prefers the view from the upper windows. It’s fairly common knowledge, and this is how the guard knows where to look for her first.

Loki took the elevator up to the 45th floor and turned left, following the directions the guard had given him to find Aeslin. He found himself walking slowly, his mind back in his childhood.

_He sits next to Frigga as she works on a tapestry, the deep, glittering colors competing for his attention. He toys with a small skein of silver thread as she talks to him, her words soft but chiding. She finishes, then asks him what she always asks at the end of these sessions._

_“And where lies your path now, my son?”_

_He scuffs his boot on the ground, dropping the shimmering thread back into the basket. “I will be king someday. A son of Odin does not need to apologize.”_

_Her laugh is kind, but she takes his hand firmly as she stands, pulling him to his feet. “But a son of Frigga should at least know how.”_

The door to the lounge slid open, and he passed a few staff members on their way out of the room. Aeslin was soaking up the last of the sun’s rays as she napped on the windowseat, her back to the glass.  Her boots lay on the ground below her. Loki slowed, not wanting to disturb her sleep, but as he came closer, she opened her eyes and looked over at him. Her gaze was wary, and he felt a knot in his chest.

“I’ve done some research,” he began. “I’ve learned that when apologies are offered in your world, they’re usually accompanied by some sort of gift. It only occurred to me this morning that I own absolutely nothing but the clothing I wear, and even that is debatable. I’ll also have you know it is virtually impossible to find paper in this building. I think you have the only supply, and I thought it unwise to trouble you. I ended up having to be escorted across the street.”

She watched him silently, with an almost clinical look of curiosity. Suddenly glad they were alone, Loki pulled his offering from his pocket - a tiny folded paper flower.  He had been more than a little surprised to find that he remembered how to make one. The blue lines on the yellow paper crisscrossed along the petals and stem. He held it out to her.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I should not have acted as I did. You did not deserve it.”

Aeslin came to a sitting position, a scrap of wariness leaving her eyes. She took the flower, twisting the stem in her fingers. Pulling a pillow to her chest, she scooted back into a corner of the window seat. Inwardly releasing the breath he had been holding, Loki sat gingerly at the far end.

“This doesn’t change a thing,” she said without rancor. “You’re still an overdramatic jerk who doesn’t fight fair.”

“I am,” he agreed, having done a little research on that term in the week that had passed since he had ended their argument by dropping her into the hallway like a recalcitrant cat and slamming the door. “To be honest, I have been for centuries. God of Mischief is a title I _earned_ , thank you very much.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “But from what I’ve seen, _you_ have both a vicious temper and an understanding soul that can forgive without question. It’s quite the combination, really, and I can’t decide which is more dangerous.”

She shrugged. “Depends on the day.”

They fell silent, and Loki remained at his end of the bench, keeping himself as still as possible. She was still skittish, he could tell, and the last thing he wanted was for her to bolt like a fawn into the underbrush.

“What now?” she said after a long moment.

“I’m not sure,” Loki admitted. “This isn’t something I’m terribly familiar with.”

She snorted a little indelicately. “Not surprising.” Aeslin looked down at the flower in her fingers. “This is, though.”

“A memory from childhood.”

“I sometimes forget that you had one,” she replied.

Loki looked down at his now-empty hands. “A long time ago, and built on a lie.”

“Not all of it, and I have yet to meet anyone with a perfect childhood. Mortal or otherwise.”

He smirked a little, still looking down. The words came out before he thought better of them.

“Tell me of your family.”

She was silent, and he felt that in the space of mere seconds, he had crossed yet another line.

“Why?”

“Just trying to make conversation,” he said to cover the fact that he didn’t actually know. “Small talk. Isn’t that what humans do?”

A short laugh. “Oh, don’t tell me that Asgardians don’t make small talk. I know they do.  Fandral took me to a bar. Tavern. Whatever it is you call them up there.  The only differences between yours and ours are a massive amount of facial hair and the fact that your drinks are probably distilled from the blood of some giant underground fire worm spelled with a ‘y’ just to look snooty.”

“Very true,” he replied with a rueful shake of his head. “I have little use for them. But you’re changing the subject.”

“Trying to. Why do you want to know, anyway?”

“I just want to know about you. My family’s… idiosyncrasies are obvious. I suppose I’d like to hear about something different. Traditional, perhaps.”

“You won’t get that from me, I’m afraid.”

“Why not? You have family, surely.”

A shrug. “If you say so.”

Loki sat back a little; Aeslin looked at him, sighing and blowing hair from her face. He couldn’t tell if she was irritated or merely giving up. Perhaps both.

At last, she spoke, more to the flower than to him. “That friend I couldn’t save after the car accident? He was my dad. I had just turned twelve.”

“And your mother?” He almost didn’t want to know.

“I lost her when I was six.”

“Both your parents are dead?” He winced, sure there was a better way he could have said it, but she seemed not to care.

“I didn’t say she was dead. I said I _lost_ her. Both my parents worked for SHIELD. My mom disappeared on an assignment. After my dad passed away, they tried to find her. They were never able to, and I finally stopped looking about five years ago.” She pushed the pillow to the bench between them and bent to zip her boots back on. “SHIELD is my family. It has been almost my entire life. I had a grandmother in Scotland who was too ill to take me and an uncle in South Africa who was too busy with big game hunting and drinking himself to death to take on a stray. Fury was my legal guardian from the time my father died until I turned eighteen. Coulson is the older brother I never actually had.” Aeslin tugged her jeans over her boots with finality, then looked at him.  The light from the setting sun made her eyes look more silver than green. “Think about that for just a second. I was raised by a corporation. One that _excels_ at secrets. At excuses. At lies. At breaking things. Why do you think I’ve spent the last twenty years in school? That’s not what normal people do, but I couldn’t think of anything else, and after a while it was just a habit. Fury paid for any schools I wanted, with the understanding that I would remain a consultant and on the medical staff.” She shrugged. “Much as I occasionally hate it, SHIELD is home. It always has been.”

“That was kind of him,” he said lamely.

Another slight roll of her shoulders. “I guess.”

There was something else beneath the surface, but Loki didn’t press further. She stood, gesturing for him to follow as she walked toward the wall where the coffee and drinks machines waited, idly twirling the flower between thumb and finger.

“You were very unfair the other day,” she said. “I know you were angry, and you didn’t know the whole story. But understand this,” she continued, putting a hand on his elbow and stopping him mid-room. Unable to help himself, he looked at her hand, then at her. She looked as well, then removed her hand. “I would do almost anything to have my dad back. Or my mom. I would give almost anything to make that hurt go away.” She took a small breath. “I don’t condone what you did, and I _certainly_ don’t agree with your methods. Not by any stretch. But I think, maybe more than anyone around here, I understand _why_ you did it. Just something to think about the next time you plan to say something that stupid.”

Loki found that he couldn’t meet her eyes. He felt something of the ache inside loosen. “I’ll remember,” he said to the flower still in her hand. “Thank you, Doctor.” As he watched, a tiny drop of red fell onto the lined paper.

“Aeslin,” she said slowly, almost as if she were having a hard time remembering. He looked up in alarm. “My name is Aeslin.” A thin stream of blood ran from her nose. She met Loki’s eyes, confused, and a split second later, she collapsed to the floor, body convulsing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me be perfectly clear. Loki DID NOT injure her in any way, except possibly her pride. The argument had gone on for quite some time, he told her to leave, and she said (and I quote), "Make me." So he did. He picked her up, walked to the door, dropped her in the hallway, and went back inside.


	20. Chapter 20

Time seemed to compress. Loki stumbled to the door, shouting for help, then ran back to kneel at her side. Hands roughly shoved him aside, and suddenly Coulson was there next to him. Aeslin had gone horribly still and pale. Coulson touched her face and felt for a pulse, then talked urgently into a small phone. The older man’s hand stayed on Aeslin’s head as he talked to her quietly.

“Where do you think you’re going, kid?” Coulson was saying. Loki could barely hear him. “Stay with me. Stay _here_.”

The medics rushed in soon after; Coulson told them as much as he could as they strapped a collar around her neck and gently lifted her to a stretcher. He turned to Loki, who was still on his knees. “What happened?”

Loki shook his head. “I don’t know. There was a little blood. Then she just… fell.” He felt oddly angry that he wasn’t able to tell him more.

The medical team finished their preparations, and Coulson followed them out the door to the elevator. After a second’s hesitation, Loki scrambled to his feet and followed.

The elevator took them down rapidly. Several people were waiting when the doors opened, and suddenly there was a whirl of activity centered around the stretcher. Orders and questions flew as she was moved toward a pair of double doors. As the group disappeared through them, Loki thought he saw Aeslin begin to thrash on the gurney.

Coulson waited until the doors stopped swinging. Then he turned on his heel and walked down a hall, not even bothering to see if Loki was behind him. Loki followed him into a tiny room with a large window; through it, he could see several doctors working.  She was barely visible through the medical team, but he saw that she was still again. No sound carried through the glass. One gloved figure moved forward with a pair of scissors, cutting up her sleeve to put a needle in her arm.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Coulson never took his eyes off the window.

“Perhaps you should have mentioned that in the elevator.”

“I had more important things to worry about.”

They stood in silence for a moment.

“I didn’t know she was ill,” Loki finally said.

Coulson’s voice was short. “She’s not.”

“Will she die?”

A pause. “She’d better not.”

Loki looked at Coulson, but the older man’s face was like stone.

“She said you were her brother.”

“In every way that matters,” Coulson replied, his eyes on Aeslin. “Do you know what that means?”

“Yes.”

“No, you don’t,” came the sharp retort. “You’ve made that _quite_ clear, so I’ll make it simple. What it means to you is that if this is in _any_ way even _close_ to being your fault, I go straight to the front of the line. You’re mine. Not Fury’s. Not anyone else’s. _Mine_. And it will be painful. It will be permanent, and it will be very, _very_ obvious. Do you understand me?”

“It wasn’t me.”

Coulson said nothing. In the room, the activity was dying down; Aeslin was now hooked up to several machines, and things were temporarily quiet. The agent’s phone rang, and he answered it without looking. Loki could hear the director’s voice clearly through the phone. Coulson gave a few negative answers and one affirmative, then hung up. A few moments later, a junior agent came into the room.

“Take him back upstairs,” Coulson ordered. Loki started to protest, but one look from the older man silenced him completely. The agent nodded, and without a glance into the window, gestured for Loki to precede her out of the room. With a last look, Loki turned and walked out the door.

He was returned to his apartment. The agent walked him to the door and just as silently returned to the elevator. Loki stood in his doorway for a moment, unsure of what to do. Feeling adrift, he pulled a chair over to the window. He stared out at the rapidly falling darkness outside, hoping against hope that she would live through the night.

***

Aeslin was moved out of the rapid response room and onto the hospital floor several hours later. Coulson had only a general idea of what time it was when she was finally settled; it felt as though it had already been days. He walked with the gurney, his legs aching from standing so long in one place. Aeslin had not regained consciousness, and the doctors were nowhere close to finding a cause for her sudden collapse. They were able to tell him that they believed she was out of danger for the moment; the convulsions did not seem to have caused any damage but the superficial cuts and bruises she had gained in the fall. Fury was waiting when the elevator opened. The two men waited outside the door to her room as the nurses finished changing their charge into a hospital gown and making sure she was as comfortable as possible. They were removing the cervical collar when Coulson and Fury walked in. There was one chair in the room.  Fury dragged it over to the side of the bed, ignoring the sharp looks from the nurses, and flopped down into it.

“It’s five in the morning, Phil,” he said. “And there’s only one chair. Go to bed. That’s an order.”

“Sir…”

“I’ll stay here and keep you in the loop. Go.”

Coulson rested a hand on Aeslin’s head for a moment, then straightened and quietly left the room. Fury leaned back in the chair and settled in for the long wait.

***

After a sleepless night and an endless day, Loki was almost glad to see Fury when he showed up early the next evening. He stumbled to his feet as the door chimed; it opened before he had made it halfway across the room. The director filled the doorway.

“Does she live?”

The director nodded. “She does.”

Loki felt a strange relief bubbling up inside. “Is she alone?”

“No. And before you ask, she’s not awake, either. Coulson thought you might want to know.”

“Will-” Loki began, but Fury was already gone. The door closed solidly behind him.


	21. Chapter 21

After a few hours’ sleep and several briefings, Fury once again came down to the hospital floor. As he walked toward Aeslin’s room, one of the nurses stopped him, directing him to another room down the hall. He frowned, irked at not being informed that they had moved her. He knocked lightly, then let himself into the room. It looked as though it had been recently cleaned. Coulson and one of the neurologists stood near the bed, talking in low voices. They looked up when Fury entered, but the director had stopped at Aeslin’s bedside.

“Restraints?”

The doctor nodded. “She keeps pulling her IVs and electrodes. There have been no events in the last few hours, so we believed that it was for the best.”

“Has she regained consciousness?”

At a look from Coulson, the doctor continued. “Not exactly, and only for a few minutes. As soon as she was close, things got a little wild. Stuff was hitting the walls right and left. We had to sedate her almost immediately.”

“Why didn’t you use the cuffs then?”

“Because they were already on.”

Blood drained from Fury’s face as the pieces fell into place.

“Start talking.” 

***

They chose a small conference room down a short hallway. The doctor immediately pulled up several scans on the monitor, along with a sidebar that scrolled vital signs and lab results. Lastly, he accessed the closed circuit video from earlier in the day. Fury watched the feed while Coulson and the doctor watched him. No sound, but clear picture. He saw Aeslin lying in her bed, seemingly unresponsive. Coulson sat next to her in the chair, dozing. She moved position slightly, her head shifting to the other side, then stopped. Fury watched her tug at the restraints, her eyes starting to open. Her brow knit a little - he recognized it as discomfort and confusion. A nurse and doctor entered the room. Coulson awoke as they entered, and he glanced over at Aeslin. A spike on the sidebar readout. 

Then, slowly but surely, all hell broke loose.

It started small enough. A box of tissue on the bedside table trembled slightly, then was pushed off by an invisible hand. Next came the water pitcher, and then the bed shifted away from the wall. Coulson glanced around and ducked as a piece of equipment sailed past his head. The chair he had been sitting in slammed against the mirror, which shattered into sparkling fragments. Fury could see the doctor hit a button on the bed frame, and soon another nurse entered. The newcomer stopped only a moment, watching things fly across the room as the doctor gestured to the figure on the bed. Aeslin had barely moved, but there was fear on her face. Fear and something else, Fury realized. The second nurse made his way over to her, dodging the occasional missile, and swiped at her arm. Seconds later, she had been injected, and within moments, her eyes closed again. The sanitizer dispenser crashed to the ground a few seconds later, almost as an afterthought.

“Her cortical readings are off the chart,” the doctor said, pausing the video. “We don’t know what’s causing it yet, but there are definite physiologic changes beginning to happen as well. She’s healing faster than normal, and her metabolism is also on the rise. We had to give her a massive amount of sedatives.”

“English.”

He pulled up another set of vitals. The patterns in this one looked more stable, but still elevated. “Honestly? I think she’s evolving.”

“When did it start?”

“Not sure, but from what we can tell, it’s recent. The scans we did a few months ago look nothing like this. It almost seems like she hit some sort of critical mass yesterday afternoon. My guess is that it’ll continue to stabilize in the next little while.”

An alarm sounded, and the doctor looked at the readout and started out of the room.  Fury and Coulson followed on his heels. “Wait here,” he said at the door, rushing in. Coulson could see Aeslin on the bed, yanking at the restraints. Her back arched, and she twisted in the narrow hospital bed. Tears streamed down the sides of her face as she screamed, pulling harder at the cuffs. The metal of her hospital bed bent a little, and the heavy chair next to her bed slid across the room, slamming against the wall and startling both men. A nurse shoved past them, reaching for the IV cart. An eternity passed before Aeslin began to calm. 

Fury had seen enough.  Coulson was already moving toward the bed, but Fury stopped his senior agent after only a step. “Find Dr. Banner. See what he can figure out on this. Borrow Jarvis if you have to. Contact Dr. Foster. I want to get a message to her boyfriend. And you,” he said, turning to the doctor. “Get those restraints off  _ now. _ ”

***

When Aeslin woke, the room was dark. Her body ached as if she had run a marathon followed by several consecutive boxing matches. She shifted experimentally and realized immediately that the restraints were gone. She ran weak fingers through her hair, skimming over the two electrodes on her temples. She sensed more than saw the figure sitting a few feet away. Too exhausted to move her head, she merely closed her eyes again. 

“How long?”

Coulson’s voice came from the darkness. “Five days.” She heard him sigh a little. “Punk. You scared the living hell out of me.”

She smiled weakly, eyes still closed. “That’s better than the dead hell, right?” She heard Coulson stand and close the door, then a scrape as he pulled his chair closer to the bed. 

“What happened?” she asked, finally opening her eyes and focusing on him a little.

“I was hoping you could tell me.  We’ve got people working on it upstairs. Nothing yet.”

“You must know something.”

“Nope.  When you’re able to get around, we’ll get you up there and see what you can add.”

She rolled onto her side to face him, wincing as she did so. “Not much, I’m afraid. I just remember being in the lounge, talking to Loki. Then, nothing. You probably know more than I do, at least about that part.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’ve been through the feeds a few times.”

“How many’s a few?”

“Lost count.”

She smiled, but it faded almost immediately. “I had the strangest dreams, though.”

“What about?”

Aeslin narrowed her eyes slightly. “Tell me they were just dreams.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

She turned onto her back then, slowly and carefully. A nurse knocked quietly and entered. She briefly checked vitals. “How do you feel?”

A shrug. “All right, I suppose. Exhausted.”

The nurse adjusted the IV drip. “Not surprising, given what your body’s gone through. I’ve paged the doctor to let him know you’re awake. He should be down soon.”

“How soon can I get all this out?” Aeslin’s gesture took in her whole body - electrodes, IVs, tubes.

“He’ll be better able to tell you that. Can I get you anything?”

“Just something to drink.” 

The nurse nodded. “I’ll double check, then send someone in.”

By the time an assistant returned with her drink, Aeslin was asleep again. Coulson settled back, able to relax for the first time in days.

  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laufey had no use for him. Odin had no use for him. SHIELD is just as bad.
> 
> Being useless gets old pretty fast.

It had been days since Fury had come to see Loki. In the interim, he had alternately spent time in his rooms or had visited the training areas. Anything to keep his mind occupied and off her. It hadn’t worked as well as he’d hoped it would. Though a solitary creature by nature, Loki found himself inexplicably lonely. He eventually found himself in the 45th floor lounge again, stretched out on her window seat. He flipped idly through one of his books, alternately staring at the pages and out the window. He looked up as the door opened. Coulson.

“I’ve been looking for you,” the agent said.

“How is she?”

“She woke earlier today. I think she’ll be all right.”

Loki looked down at his book, running his finger casually along the spine. “Who’s with her?”

“Nobody, for the moment. She told me she’d be fine.”

“May I see her?”

Coulson poured some coffee, then put down the pot with finality. “I said she’s fine.”

“You don’t believe her.”

A shrug. “What matters is what she believes.”

Loki swung his legs to the floor and faced Coulson. “Let me help you.”

The agent met his eyes over the rim of his coffee cup; his gaze said nothing. Encouraged by the silence, Loki went on. “I have done nothing since Odin abandoned me here. I am _allowed_ to do nothing. It appears to be my lot. My father had no real purpose for me, in the end, and here seems no different.” He tossed his book onto the cushion beside him. “I _despise_ being useless.”

“So what can you do?”

“I can fill a chair as well as the next man. Perhaps better.”

“Perhaps not.”

“She shouldn’t have to be alone!” Loki’s voice rose as he stood. The words hung in the air; he hadn’t meant to say them aloud. Coulson regarded him coolly. Loki met his eyes, feeling like a glass bauble. Brought up to the light for inspection, searched for cracks and flaws. He held his ground.

“She’s not a prisoner,” Coulson finally said. “She’s a patient.”

“Yes.”

“That means if she tells you to leave, you leave.”

“Yes.”

“That _second_.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be watching.”

“First in line,” Loki responded. “I have not forgotten.”

Coulson shook his head. “Follow me.”

***

The elevator sped downward, and Loki felt a slight sense of deja vu as he dropped to the lower levels of the building. He was met at the other end by someone in scrubs. She led him down the hall, dimmed now for the evening, to the room at the very end. Loki noticed that the area seemed fairly deserted, and he wondered if she were the only one there. Her door was slightly ajar; the nurse stopped him and gestured to a pump bottle. She pressed the top, dropping a small pile of gel into Loki’s hand. “Rub them together until it dries,” she said quietly. She then knocked and pushed the door open slightly farther. “I’ll be at the nurses’ station if you need me.” The nurse then turned and left as quietly as she had come.

Loki pushed the door open with his elbow, rubbing his hands together as he did so. It was a rather odd sensation, and he didn’t like it much. Slipping through the door, he let it drift almost closed behind him as his eyes adjusted to the dimness.

Aeslin lay with her back to him. The lines of her body were blurred by the soft grey blanket that covered her. A small light over the sink threw enough light that he could see some details - the angle of her jaw, a glimmer of tubing atop the blanket. She shifted in her sleep, and it nudged him to action. Making his way around the edge of the bed, careful to avoid any machinery, he slid into the chair near the bedside. He leaned back, feeling the quiet sink around him. A different quiet than his empty apartments, the edges softened by Aeslin’s even breathing and the occasional electronic beep. He let it settle around him for several minutes until he realized that her breathing had changed. He raised his head and saw that she was awake and staring at him. Her brow was knit in concentration, as if she couldn’t quite place him. He remained silent, letting her think.

“I’m sorry I bled on your flower,” she finally said. Her voice was soft, slow and a little rough.

“I can make another.”

She curled a little tighter under the blanket, the look still there.

“What are you doing here?”

He smiled a little. The words sounded so much different coming from her. “Being of use.”

She raised an eyebrow with some effort.

“Coulson told me you were awake and would be all right,” he said, trying not to stumble over the words in his haste to explain himself. “I wanted to see for myself, and to make sure you were not left alone. It didn’t seem right.” When Aeslin said nothing, he went on. “Tell me to go, if you wish.”

“And you will?”

“You’re no prisoner,” he said, echoing Coulson’s words. “I will do as you ask.” He stood, doing his best to hide his reluctance.

A slender hand snaked from beneath the blanket, and she shifted the pillow beneath her head. “No,” she said after a moment, so quietly he could barely hear her. “Please stay.”

He returned to the chair, edging it closer to the bed.

She had a faint smile behind the silver-green eyes as she watched him. “Not a complete jerk, then,” she said quietly. “You might be salvageable after all.”

“Hot-tempered, forgiving _and_ hopelessly optimistic,” he replied with a slight shake of his head. “You’re getting more alarming by the second.”

“You forgot to mention my amazing people skills.”

“No,” Loki said. “I didn’t.”

She closed her eyes, the smile finally reaching her lips. “ _Mostly_ salvageable.”

Loki felt himself relax a little, comfortable at last. Hard as it was to admit, he _had_ missed their interactions, strange as this one was, with its darkened hospital room and no glass between them. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees.

“So tell me, Kindlesdaughter. How may I be of use to you? What can I do?”

Her voice was drowsy. “Nothing in particular. Just... be.”

He stayed where he was, regarding her in the wan light. She looked so frail. So unlike the woman he thought he knew. Her arm still peeked from the blanket, a needle lodged near her wrist. Her hand lay on the sheets like an unopened flower. Her breathing resumed its soft, steady pattern as she crossed back into sleep, but even as he watched, her brow furrowed slightly. Her face was troubled.

Almost of its own accord, his hand lifted. He reached across the small space between them and curled his fingers around hers. After a long moment, he felt a gentle tightening in her grip, and then Loki felt her relax. He allowed himself a tiny smile.

 _Useful,_ he thought. _At last._


	23. Chapter 23

Loki dozed in the cool darkness of the hospital room. At some point during the night, he had figured out to recline the chair next to her bed, and he had fallen asleep almost instantly. It was the first useful sleep he’d had since his banishment, and he was glad for it, even though it had been interrupted every hour or so by a nurse or doctor checking in. Some time in the early morning, he had woken to Coulson standing in the doorway. The agent had met Loki’s eyes silently, and Loki had gestured to the chair. Surprisingly, Coulson had only shaken his head distractedly, his eyes going to the figure on the bed. He had stayed in the doorway for a moment or two, then slipped quietly back out after a final glance at Loki. It had been hard to go back to sleep after that, but he had rested off and on. Through the fog of half-sleep, he heard a faint rustling.

“Well,” came her voice. “This is weird.”

Loki woke abruptly, struggling to rise from the fully-reclined chair with only some success. The floor was beginning to wake, and bright light from the doorway fell across the room. His eyes flew to the bed. Aeslin was sitting up, staring at the opposite wall with an odd look on her face.

Still unable to sit up completely, Loki made a controlled lunge, grabbing for the bar on the side of her bed. He pulled himself upright. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

There must have been something in his silence, because she turned to him, the expression still there.

“I’ve been out for days, and I should feel hideous. But I’m fine.” She paused as she seemed to do a short assessment. “Better than fine. Everything about this is wrong.” Aeslin pressed buttons along the guardrail of her bed, bringing up the lights. Loki blinked in the harsh fluorescence. “Standard IV,” she said almost to herself. “Normal saline. Close your eyes.”

He did so, taking the time to force himself completely awake. A few moments passed before she told him to open them again. She stood near the door, dropping the lid on an orange-lined bin. She moved easily, pulling her IV machine behind her. Her hospital gown came just above her knees, and she looked terribly young. “Give me two minutes, then push that button for me, will you?” she asked, indicating a large green button with a strange silhouette printed on it. She picked up the phone on the table, white and incongruous. Tapping a number from memory, she spoke almost immediately.

“I need an extraction.” Almost as quickly, she dropped the phone back into the cradle and went to the sink. Loki heard water running as she rapidly brushed her teeth. He pushed the button as requested, and a light came on above her bed.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m sure.” Aeslin opened a closet, then closed it. She opened it again, faster this time, as if expecting something different. “Except I have no clothes.”

“I think they cut them off.”

“Figures.” She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and made a slight face. “I loved that shirt.” She opened the cupboard next to the closet. “Boots survived, so not a total loss.”

The door pushed open at that moment, and Coulson appeared. The shift nurse followed close behind. They both stopped in the doorway for a moment.

“You shouldn’t be up,” the nurse managed. “You shouldn’t be _able_ to be up.”

Aeslin held up her wrist. “I’m leaving AMA. I’ll need this out, please and thank you.”

“Dr. Killian will need to see you first.”

“Then tell him to hurry.” She sat on the bed and kindly but firmly held out her wrist. “Come on. Pulling my own IV always gives me the wiggles.”

The nurse stepped forward with a sigh, and Aeslin turned her head slightly away as he slid the needle from her arm. Her gazed fixed on Coulson as she held a finger over the puncture mark.

“Tell me you brought clothes.”

Coulson smiled, holding up a small backpack. “Found your bugout bag.”

“I could hug you.”

“We’ve talked about that.”

She took the bag. “Then consider yourself lucky we have, because I haven’t showered in a week.” She disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

The nurse pulled a phone from his scrubs, speaking rapidly into it. The bathroom door reopened, and the two scalp electrodes were dropped unceremoniously into Coulson’s waiting hand. He in turn handed them to the nurse as the door reclosed. “Nothing personal,” he said to the young man. “Promise.”

Coulson looked over at Loki in the ensuing  silence. “Sleep well?”

***

Aeslin emerged twenty minutes later, and Coulson immediately herded them all down the hall into the conference room he had used previously.

“I don’t like this,” the doctor protested as soon as the door closed.

“Too bad,” Aeslin said. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t know that. It’s been less than 48 hours since your last incident. There’s a huge risk.”

“I’m willing. I feel fine.”

Killian shook his head. “This isn’t a good idea.”

She carefully picked up the stylus from the table and walked over to the doctor. There was tension in her spine; Loki could just see it beneath the mechanical wings printed on the back of her shirt. Her voice was quiet, a trace of pleading in it that Loki wished that he hadn’t heard. “Jamey, please.” She held up the thin, electronic pencil. “Don’t make me stay.”

The doctor’s eyes went to Coulson, who ever so slightly inclined his head to the door with an expression Loki was very glad wasn’t directed at him. The agent slid the tablet across the table to the doctor. “It’s all in order. I’ll take responsibility.”

Sighing, the doctor signed the tablet with a flourish.

Aeslin signed as well. “Thank you.”

A simple nod. “You’re welcome.”

Aeslin left the conference room, leaving the door open behind her. Coulson picked up Aeslin’s bag, and Loki followed him to the door. The agent stopped him in the hallway just outside with the look still on his face.

“This stays here.”

Loki nodded. “Of course.”

Coulson was already shaking his head. “ _All_ of it. She-”

Loki gently cut him off. “I know what ‘all of it’ means. I’m not an idiot.”

“I’ve heard otherwise.”

“And yet you still let me down here.”

“I did.”

“ _Why_?”

“Because I also heard she started it.” Coulson picked up her bag. “Let’s go.” He led them to the elevator, where Aeslin was already inside, finger on the button that held the doors open. As soon as they entered, she let the doors close. They opened again on a familiar floor, and Coulson turned to Loki.

“This is your stop.”

Loki stepped off the elevator and turned back. Coulson punched another button. “We’ll be in touch,” he said. Shifting slightly, Loki caught Aeslin’s eyes. She smiled at him as the doors closed, and he read her lips in the last seconds.

 _Thank you_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (hospital recliners are seriously The Worst. my mom was once stuck in one for an hour because the angle was all wrong and she couldn't get out and we still laugh about it ten years later.)


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who do you turn to when doctors can't help?
> 
> A doctor, of course.

Bruce Banner loved a challenge.  He loved to use his mind to pull the threads of a puzzle, unraveling it until it made sense. It gave him a sense of peace, and for someone who lived with an extremely unpredictable creature within him, that meant a lot. This current problem, however, was well on its way toward damaging that fragile calm. 

“We’re missing something,” he said, flopping into a chair.  It rolled to a stop in front of the display where Jarvis was rapidly analyzing closed files.  The glass doors hissed opened behind him. “This makes no sense.” 

“What makes no sense?” Aeslin asked as soon as she entered. Coulson tossed her bag on a nearby chair as he strode toward the display.

“ _ You _ ,” Banner said. “You’ve got me stumped.”

She sat on one of the work stools. “How so? And why are you involved, anyway? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Banner looked at Coulson. “You didn’t show her.”

“Haven’t had a chance.”

Aeslin looked back and forth between the two men. “Showed me what?”

Coulson walked to the pad next to the doorway, darkening the windows that opened onto the hall. He then went to the screen at the edge of the room and pulled up the first video from the hospital. He looked apologetically at Aeslin as he started it, but said nothing. Banner had seen the video a few times, pulling what information he could get from it. Now he sat back and watched Aeslin as she saw it for the first time. She watch impassively for the first moments until she realized what was happening.  By the end, she was pale, one hand on her mouth, the other wrapped around herself. Coulson immediately started the next, and then the last one. After it was over, she walked slowly and deliberately to the screen and restarted the feed. She watched in silence. 

“Is that what your dreams were about?” Coulson asked quietly.

She shook her head, her hand still at her mouth. 

“Do you remember any of that?”

Another shake of her head. Banner noticed that her hand was trembling. He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, knowing exactly what she felt. “We’ll figure this out,” he said, pulling her into a firm hug. “I promise.”

***

“Jarvis has been looking through old files,” Banner said, retrieving a third piece of pizza.  Coulson had ordered food, and they had taken time to eat. Aeslin now sat cross-legged in an office chair, spinning gently. She was much calmer; after the initial shock had worn off, she had gone straight to work. “Do you have any ideas, though? Anything weird happen lately?”

“Does crossing Bifrost count?” she asked.

“Actually, it shouldn’t. I’ve run several simulations on the effects of it on humans. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Thor told me that people used to travel it all the time with no problem. Is he still saying that?”

“Thor hasn’t said anything,” Banner said after a short, awkward silence. “We sent a message the night after you went in, and then two more after that, but we haven’t heard a word.”

“Oh.” Aeslin looked at the desktop, tapping it with one finger. When she spoke again, she seemed distracted. “Is he okay?”

“We think so. Doctor Foster sent the messages, and she seems to think they got through. But if he said it works, then we’re likely okay to trust that.”

She nodded, seemingly convinced but with a distant look on her face. Her eye caught a stylus, and she stared at it intently. A moment later, it rolled along the table and fell to the floor. Banner’s eyebrows went up.

“Conscious control.”

“Sorry, what?” She turned her head quickly toward him, and two empty pizza boxes flew across the room and hit the glass doors. She cleared her throat, then stood up to retrieve them, stacking them back on an empty workstation.

“Scratch the control part,” Banner replied with a crooked smile. “Jarvis? Did you get that?”

“Spikes are stabilizing,” replied the AI. “I think conscious control will be increasing with time, Dr. Kindle. Your cortical patterns are still evolving. I don’t think you’ve reached the peak yet.”

“Any more seizure activity?”

“Doubtful,” Jarvis said. “I see no further underlying instabilities.” Here it paused. “I have abnormal lab results from about five months ago. No follow up, and there’s no listed reason for the tests. Do you remember?” 

“Standard protocol. I was on the RRT for the dark matter lab. In fact,” she continued slowly, “I was down there right after Loki came through. We were called to deal with the injuries. I had almost forgotten. They tested all of us right afterward to make sure nothing was wrong, but released us right away.”

Banner was reading the lab results. “They’re not weird enough that anyone would have given it a second thought. You had just been exposed to low-level gamma radiation, after all.” He rolled his eyes a little. “Because, you know. That’s not dangerous or anything.”

“But no one else developed symptoms, as far as we know.” Jarvis said. “Everyone else’s tests had completely normal results.”

“Everyone?” Aeslin asked.

“Yes.”

“So what makes me different?”

“Still checking, I’m afraid.”

Information scrolled across the screen at dizzying speed. An hour passed, then two. Aeslin told Banner to go to bed, which he did gratefully. He’d been up for what seemed like days. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We'll always have paper.

Banner felt like he had only been asleep for a few moments when his phone rang. He looked at the clock as he fumbled to pick it up, seeing that he had been out for several hours.

“Banner,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his face.

Coulson spoke. “Jarvis found something.”

“Be there in ten minutes.”

When he returned to his lab, he was surprised to see not only Coulson and Dr. Kindle, but Fury as well. Aeslin perched on the edge of a table, clearly irritated. “What are you doing here?” he asked Fury without thinking.

“Director of SHIELD,” Fury said slowly and clearly, “is not just a title. I can go anywhere I’d like, thanks very much. I also happen to have a personal interest in this. Jarvis contacted me yesterday in the field. I’ve been in the Vault. Tell the man what you found, Jarvis.”

“An incident report. Dated several months before Dr. Kindle was born. Another Doctor Kindle.”

Banner scratched his head. “Your dad?”

“My mom.”

“The report itself was heavily redacted, and the incident took place just before Director Fury took over. He was willing to go to the Vault in hopes he could find the original report,” the AI went on.

Fury put a thin report on the table. Banner looked at it, surprised.

“We still have paper?”

“We’ll always have paper, Dr. Banner. Can we get to the point?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

Aeslin gestured to the files. “The full incident report isn’t much bigger than the redacted one. All the information is there, but I’ll sum it up for you.” She looked daggers at Fury. “Concentrated exposure to mirilian particles for 74 seconds.”

“ _Inadvertent_ exposure,” Fury broke in.

“Mirilian particle radiation. That’s pretty old school,” said Banner.

“Not _that_ old school, thanks very much,” Aeslin said pointedly.

“We stopped working with it when it was determined it was too unstable,” Fury explained.

“Really?” Banner could tell she was fast losing her temper. “Or was it only after you had to?”

Feeling lost, Bruce looked between the two. “Guys? Maybe not the time. I haven’t had breakfast yet. That tends to put me on edge.”

Aeslin looked back. “Mom was two months pregnant.”

Banner turned on Fury. “You had a _pregnant_ woman working in the particle labs?”

“ _We didn’t know_ ,” replied the director.  “ _She_ didn’t know.”

“Still-”

“She had been told repeatedly that she and Dad couldn’t have kids,” Aeslin supplied. “She used to tell me she had failed all the tests, and all the treatments. She had come to grips with it. I was apparently too stubborn.”

“And you’re sure she was pregnant before the accident?”

Aeslin gave him a dubious look, but it was Fury who answered.

“Yes. All the tests came back correct, and she had a completely normal pregnancy. She was followed closely. I know, because this incident was the last nail in my predecessor’s coffin. I replaced him less than a month later.”

The pieces were starting to creep together in Banner’s mind. “And you?”

“I was also completely normal. _Much_ to everyone’s surprise.”

Banner was nodding. “Let me work on this. I need all of you out. And would someone please get me a sandwich?”

***

Hours later, Aeslin wandered back in. She had changed her clothes and seemed a little calmer.

“Are you all right?” asked Bruce.

“I guess,” she said, dropping to a chair. “I was pretty mad, so I went for a run.”

“That’s nice.”

“For four hours.”

“That’s… a long time.”

“Apparently my brain’s not the only thing that’s changing,” she admitted.

“No, as a matter of fact,” Jarvis chimed in, “your biological profile is actually much different than it was even yesterday. I’d like to have you down in the training rooms for a full workup.”

“We’ll talk,” said Aeslin doubtfully. She turned to Banner. “Find anything?”

“Not much,” he replied honestly. “Still working.”

She sat back. “There must be something.”

“There will be. Here, look.”

He brought up several different windows on the screen. “I’ve gone back as far as I can in your medical records, but the technology wasn’t as good back then. I think they may have missed something in your early scans. Your DNA was sequenced - did you know that?”

“No, but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“I’ve run diagnostics with it, and I think there were tiny abnormalities in your DNA that weren’t caught. A latent mutation, if you will. All the sims I’ve run show no problems, though. Each ends up with a healthy human child.” He flipped to another screen.

“These are your results from after the dark matter lab run. Exposure to the residual gamma radiation wouldn’t have been troublesome for anyone else, but for you, I think the two started interacting. I’ve run tens of thousands of simulations as to what should happen when the two energies react. Results range from completely normal human being to sudden horrific death.”

She winced. “That’s terribly comforting.”

“Sorry. That didn’t come out how I planned. What I meant to say,” he continued, “is that nowhere in my simulations do I manage to recreate stable telekinesis and superhuman body function. Even throwing in the Bridge.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “It makes no sense.”

The screen beeped.  “Here’s another one,” he said.  “Oh. This time you grew a second head. It was non-functional.” Another beep. “And you didn’t survive the surgery to remove it.” He looked at her. “Too bad.”

She stared at him. “I think… I…” Words failed her, and she gestured vaguely behind her. “I think I’m just going to go.”

“That might be wise,” Banner said.

“Take a break,” she replied. “Jarvis can keep running them for a while. Maybe tomorrow will bring something.”

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki makes a promise and meets someone new.

Loki was in the middle of yet another book when the door chime sounded. He looked up, half-expecting Fury to barge in again, but the door stayed closed. Holding the book open in one hand, he threaded his way across the room and opened the door. Aeslin stood just outside, hands in the pockets of her jacket. 

“It’s fish taco day in the cafeteria,” she said in way of greeting.

Caught off guard, the book still in his hand, he blinked. “What does that even mean?”

“It means they do their best, but I’m still going across the street,” she replied. “And you would be wise to do the same.”

“I think I’m still under house arrest.”

“That’s cute,” she said, taking the book from his hand and slipping it into an inside pocket of her jacket. “Come on.”

A short stop at the guard desk in the lobby, and Loki was fitted with a simple metal bracelet. He had worn one before on his search for paper, and he knew that it was linked somehow to his brain. Any wrong move, and Aeslin could use her matching band to incapacitate him. It was a simple solution for the short term, she explained. And it got them both out for a moment.

Loki stepped out onto the busy street, feeling a breeze on his face for the first time in days. He followed Aeslin across the street and into a small cafe. He breathed in the smell of coffee, spices and baking bread and felt almost normal. She ordered drinks and food for both of them, then found them seats along the front windows where they could watch the crowd outside. SHIELD headquarters loomed large through the glass, and both ignored it as best they could.

“I hope all is well,” Loki said, but as he looked at her, he wasn’t sure. She had lost weight in the hospital and in the days after. She had removed her jacket, and the hooded sweatshirt beneath hung loosely around her.

Aeslin smiled a little ruefully. “Well enough, I suppose.”

He sipped his cider. It was still too hot, and he took the lid off the cup and put it down again. “What happened?”

“No idea. We’re still trying to figure that out. Nothing so far.” She shook her head. “It could be we’re looking the wrong place. Maybe I’ll take a trip back up to Asgard and see what your scientists can do to help.”

“We - they can’t do everything,” he said. “Even the All-Father’s power has limits.” At her mock-skeptical look, he raised his hands in surrender. “I speak the truth,” he said. “Odin does have weaknesses, though they are often overlooked, or hidden behind the crown and spear.”

“Such as?”

He looked at her, wondering how much to say, then mentally shrugged and forged on. “His humiliation of me was not complete. I still retain a little of my former strength and stamina. Much less than it was, but still more than a mortal.”

“How do you know?”

“I suspected it based on time I’ve spent in your training rooms, and I asked your AI to scan me. I’ve been bored.” He poked at the lid on the table, spinning it slowly. “Extremely so.”

“So you’re still a frost giant.”

“Of a sort, and I only tell you this to show that my adoptive father cannot do everything. He also required help to rebuild Bifrost.”

“Oh?” she took a drink of her cider. 

“If my brother is to be believed, Odin had to draw on an ancient form of magic to complete it.”

Aeslin froze, her cup halfway to her mouth. She set it down carefully on the table and looked at him intently.

“What  _ kind _ of magic?”

***

Aeslin dodged through the crowd and across the street, holding tightly to Loki’s hand. She was almost running, pulling him along behind her. She ignored his questions as she let them into the building and into the nearest bank of elevators. Using a code to bypass all other floors, she sent them up. He heard her whispering as the numbers climbed. “Comeoncomeoncomeon.” 

Dragging him out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, she ran down the hall towards one of the labs. Skidding to a stop in front of the doors, she entered her passcode. The glass slid open, and she bolted in. 

The man inside turned from the readout he was studying, took one look at Loki and started to say something. Aeslin cut him off with a raised finger as she yanked Loki from behind her. He stumbled awkwardly, but kept his footing.

“Dr. Banner,” she said by way of introduction. “I want you tell him  _ exactly _ what you just told me,” she said.

Feeling like a child suddenly called to recite a poem, Loki resisted the urge to tuck his hands behind his back.

“Odin did not have enough of his own power to rebuild Bifrost,” he told Banner. There was a silence as the other man stared. Aeslin nudged Loki none-too-gently in the back; he gave her a look over his shoulder and went on.

“The All-Father was only able to finish the bridge by drawing on magic.” 

Banner sat up. “What kind of magic?”

“Binding magic, I would guess.” Loki looked at the other man, a little confused at his intensity. “I’m sorry. Who are you again ?” 

Something went  _ click _ behind Banner’s eyes, and he ignored Loki for the moment. “Jarvis?”

Loki looked up as the AI began speaking. “I heard. I don’t know how I would add that to the simulation, though. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with Asgardian sorcery.”

“I am,” said Loki without thinking. “I know more about it than anyone on this world, and more than most on Asgard.”

Banner looked at Aeslin. “It’s your call,” he said. “This could help.”

She nodded. “Would you excuse us for a moment?” Aeslin gestured for Loki to follow her into the deserted hallway. Once there, she turned to face him.

“I need to know that I can trust you.”

“It’s unwise. Anyone who knows anything about me will tell you that.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t care about anyone else. I need to know if  _ I _ can trust you.”

_ Scattered sheets across his feet. One thousand pages, including illustrations. A tracery of scars, each a reminder of something she will never have. _

“Yes,” he said, and in that moment, he knew it was an irrevocable truth. 

“And do you trust me?”

Another truth. “As much as I know how.”

A half-smile. “At least you’re honest.” She led him back into the lab where Banner was waiting patiently and nodded. 

“He’s in.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki gets to use his brain, which is good. He thinks he's almost forgotten how.

Banner had given Loki basic information, then pulled up a window on the main screen. “Mirilian particle radiation,” he explained. “Are you familiar with it?” Loki shook his head a little.

“Not in your words,” he admitted.

The doctor tried again, pulling up a schematic. “This.”

Loki took in the images, rifling through his mind. “Yes. I know it. We call it something different, but it’s the same. We haven’t used it in millennia, and for good reason.” He glanced at Banner, confused at the sudden change in topic.

“Just keep an open mind,” Banner said, understanding the look, “and stay with me a minute.” He pointed to the first screen. “What you’re looking at is the DNA of a human exposed to mirilian particles in utero.”

Loki raised an eyebrow and turned to Aeslin.

“Don’t say it,” she said. “We know.”

Banner pulled up another screen. “And this is the DNA of the same human after exposure to residual non-baryonic energy.”

Here Loki stopped him. “Which is?”

“Dark matter.”

“Exposed how?” He turned to Aeslin, who sat on the edge of a table, booted feet swinging and hands braced on the edge.

“An experiment that had some unexpected results. There were some injuries, and this is a member of the medical team that was sent in afterward. They entered the room less than five minutes after the event.” She nodded, and Banner pulled up another screen as she went on. “Other members of both the research team and the medical team were completely unaffected.”

“Stop.” A sudden connection between the images and the conversation at the cafe. He gestured to the screen. “This is you.”

“Yes.”

“This is _you_.”

“Afraid so.”

“But-” he looked at Banner. “But this is bad. Very bad.”

“Well _thank_ you, Dr. Obvious,” Banner replied, deadpan. “We hadn’t made that connection yet.” He raised an eyebrow at Aeslin. “I thought you said he was _smart._ ”

“Shush.” A stylus flew at the physicist, barely missing Loki’s head. “Let him think.”

Loki had been thinking, and he didn’t like how it was going. He pulled himself back, looking more objectively at the situation in front of him. It was harder than he expected. Closing his eyes, he let his mind move faster. He felt it stretching from days of inactivity and depression.

“No one else affected. But since there was already something wrong, you weren’t so lucky.”

“Correct.”

“This is her DNA now,” Banner explained, pulling up a 3-D image in the center of a workstation. It turned slowly, information flowing smoothly around the helices. “And I’ll tell you right now, it makes no sense. I’ve run thousands of simulations. Tens of thousands. And my official opinion, after reviewing all the results, is that she should be dead. She should have been dead _weeks_ ago.”

“I thought you said there were some where I was a normal human being,” Aeslin said.

“There were less than fifty,” he responded. “Out of 24,000.”

Loki tuned them out briefly as he went back to his time in the libraries beneath the palace. He had delved deeper than almost anyone else, sometimes spending days in them before emerging back into the light, pale as a chthonic spirit. He remembered the tug of the bridge, familiar, but as he thought more, with a strange underlying current. His thoughts raced through memory, times where he had argued with his teachers, or when he had begged Odin for more access. Times when he had taken that access for himself, searching the drawings and dark writings of the workings beneath Asgard’s calm surface. He was dimly aware that Banner and Aeslin had fallen silent, but he ignored them as his mind sped faster, casting through the distant past.

The last piece dropped into place, and his eyes opened.

“Of course.”

He turned to the work table where the strands of DNA turned lazily. “For once in his life, my brother was right. Odin used a spell that drew power from Asgard itself to bind the bridge back together. Magic such as this is self-sustaining; Odin won’t need to worry about it for millennia. It will be able to sense fractures and make tiny repairs, if needed.”

“It’s sentient?” Banner’s brow was furrowed.

“Not in the way you think. But it was given a very specific purpose, and that purpose remains in force.” Here he looked at Aeslin. “I believe that in the few moments you were in the bridge, the magic realized that you were also something in need of repair.” Loki spread his hands lightly, then brought them together, fingers linked. “So it fixed you.”

Aeslin’s legs stopped swinging. “How would it know how?”

Loki reached out, spinning the hologram on the table with a careful finger. “I don’t think it did. Not really. It had never encountered a human before, and while in some ways you’re very similar to Asgardians, in others you’re quite different. I think, in its own way, it had to guess.”

“But it took weeks for this to happen,” Banner said.

“I think it’s because she wasn’t inside very long. The repair of the bridge did take quite a long time, and it’s actually less complex than a body, at least on a molecular scale. The magic wasn’t immediate. The process was started in the bridge, but it didn’t finish there.”

She nodded, finally understanding. “It finished three nights ago. That last night, when you came to sit with me.”

“I believe so.” Loki turned back to the screens. “Had the bridge not intervened, Dr. Banner, I think any one of your scenarios would have come true. The two mutations were building, each destabilizing the other.”

“The double vision,” Aeslin said. “It was just a manifestation.”

Banner looked at her. “Was that the only sign?”

“Not now that I think of it,” she admitted. “I was tired all the time. I had headaches. I thought it was due to being able to see through the illusions, combined with the fact that I was an insomniac working on a dissertation for fifteen hours a day in a prison. They went away after the bridge, but I assumed it was because the stress was gone. And nightmares.” Her face clouded. “Bad ones.”

“And are those gone too?” Banner asked.

“Not really. Just back to normal.” She looked up. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, Doctor Kindle?”

“Can you seal these files? I don’t want anyone to see them that hasn’t already. Keep them available only to Agent Coulson, Doctor Banner and me.”

“Not the Director?”

She sighed a little. “I suppose that’s unavoidable. Can you also set up a meeting with him for me?”

“Of course, Doctor. Files are locked down, and I’ll send the time to your calendar.”

“Thanks.” She turned off a couple of monitors. Banner stood, holding a hand out to Loki, who looked at it for a brief moment before taking it.

“Nicely done,” said the man, shaking his hand.

“I just hope I’m right,” Loki replied, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

“Me too,” admitted Banner. “Jarvis? Initiate full shutdown once we’re out of here.”

“Including decon?”

The doctor shrugged. “Might as well.”

“Done, sir.”

Banner led the other two from the lab, and the door closed and locked behind them. Within seconds, the room was dark, and Loki could see their reflections in the glass. Banner slipped on his jacket.

“Again, thank you,” he said to Loki. Turning to Aeslin, he took both of her hands in his. “And thank you, Doctor, both for the amazing puzzle and for those few _truly_ hilarious simulation results. I haven’t laughed that hard in months.”

“You’re welcome,” she said graciously. “I think.”

Banner’s face grew serious. “Call me.”

“I will.”

“Tomorrow. We’ll talk.” He gave her hands a final squeeze, then walked to the southern bank of elevators, waving to them as he stepped in and disappeared.

Loki walked next to Aeslin as she headed toward the opposite end of the corridor. Her hands were in her pockets, and her head was slightly bowed. He was surprised when she bypassed the elevators and went toward a small door tucked away near the end of the hall. She opened it, revealing a dim stairwell. The lights came on as they entered. They went down a couple of flights of stairs before Loki spoke.

“Was that the answer you wanted?”

“It was the answer I needed,” she said. “And I’m glad to have it.”

“Then why are you still so troubled?”

He took the next two steps and reached the landing before he realized that she had stopped on the stair above him. Loki turned; they were almost at eye level. “I was dying,” she said, “and I didn’t even know it. Now, just because your mother found out that I like buildings…” a helpless sort of shrug. “I’m not. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“But you’re well again. Right?”

“Right.” She joined him on the landing. “Good as new.”

They went down a few more flights of steps, and then Aeslin opened the door. He found himself on his own floor again. As they came to his door, she unlocked the band on his wrist, removing hers as well. Metal clinked as she tucked them into her pocket. She reached into her jacket, pulling out his forgotten book and holding it out to him. “This is yours. I hope I didn’t lose your place.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, taking it from her hand. “I’ve read it before, but thank you.” The cover was still warm where it had rested against her body. “And thank you for lunch.”

She gave him a familiar smile. “Anytime. See you around.”

Loki watched her as she re-entered the stairwell. He stared at the closed door for a long minute afterward, weighing the cooling book in his hand and wondering what it was she hadn’t told him.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson tries out a pep talk with only some success, since pep talks are for normal people and Coulson's never met one. (Or, that one time Phil might have been a little too honest.)

The rooftop levels of SHIELD’s New York headquarters were something not many saw. Often enough, even when they did, they saw only the landing pads, with its comings and goings, Quinjets and copters. Most didn’t know about what was on the other side of the roof: an observation area that stretched along a short span of the edge of the building.

The Steven Grant Rogers Observation Deck, in fact. A small, tasteful area with decorative steel railings and a brass memorial plaque, dedicated in the 1950s to a man that, as it turned out, wasn’t exactly in need of being memorialized. The plaque had never been taken down, and she and Phil had once talked Steve into coming up here. He had good-naturedly posed for photographs next to the plaque, shield at the ready and his hand to his forehead, gazing out into the distance with a look of observant, self-righteous determination on his face. They had all three laughed like idiots at the whole thing, so in tune with all the rest of the ridiculous paradoxes that made up SHIELD. Steve didn’t come up again after that first time, though; he had explained that it was almost _too_ weird for him as long as the plaque was there, and Phil had flat-out refused to take it down.

She sat on the smooth metal of the deck, legs tucked beneath the lower safety rail and dangling into space. Her chin rested on her arms, which in turn lay along a second rail. It was slightly too low to be completely comfortable, but it didn’t matter. She stared out across the New York skyline, seeing everything and nothing at once.

The glass door slid back with a hiss, and she heard Phil’s familiar tread. She looked up as he sat next to her, back against the railing and facing the building. He had tried once to sit the other way, as she did, but suits and decorative steel railings didn’t make the best bedfellows. He rested his forearms on his knees, staring up into the sky.

“Heard you went home yesterday.”

She looked back out across the city. “I needed socks.”

“The shop has socks. You weren’t supposed to leave before your file was done.”

“I needed _my_ socks. The ones they have aren’t tall enough.”

He sighed. “You can’t run from this, kid. You _can’t_.”

The words were stupid. They were pointless. They had been the first time she had screamed them at him. They were no better now, but it didn’t keep her from saying them again. “It’s not fair.”

“You’re alive.”

“I’m a _freak._ ”

“You’re _different_. That’s all.”

“I don’t want it, Phil. I don’t want any of this. I didn’t _ask_ for any of this. Worse than that, I had no say. No choice.”

“Then choose _now._ Don’t let this control you. _Take_ control. Make it obey you, not the other way around. You’re stronger than that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. You’re strong. You’re smart. You’re a stubborn pain the ass that doesn’t know when to quit. So _use_ that.”

She scoffed. “I’m not a pain in the ass.”

“Are so,” he countered. “Ask anyone. It’s apparently one of your more endearing qualities.”

“Says who?”

“Barton,” he replied, a little too quickly. “Stark. Hill. Foster. Keaton from Accounting. Jamison in Engineering. Most of IT. Fury.”

“I _get_ it,” she cut him off. “You could have at least alphabetized them.” She thought for a second. “Not Steve?”

“Nah,” Phil said, pulling a tablet from his jacket. “He just thinks you’re overworked and misunderstood.”

She laughed. “Of course he does. Bless him.” She glanced over at the tablet in Phil’s hand, the smile dying from her face. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah. Your listing. I wanted you to see it before I take my sweet time in submitting it.”

Aeslin took it reluctantly. “At least tell me you’re my handler.”

“I can’t be,” he replied. “Conflict of interest wouldn’t even _begin_ to describe it. I found you a good one, though.”

She glanced down, unable to stifle another sudden giggle. “Banner? _Banner_? Are you serious?”

“I am,” he confirmed.

“I'm pretty sure Index cases aren't allowed to handle each other, and he's practically the reason we had to make an index in the first place.”

Coulson shrugged. “Your listing is limited; that’s one thing I was able to talk Fury into. I made it so that only people who already knew are going to know. Since I can’t, that means Banner. If you think about it, it’s ideal. He’s got quite a bit of insight into your current situation, and if he can learn control, so can you. It’s pretty much perfect.”

She tapped her boot against the side of the building as she flipped through the information. Phil seemed to read her silence, like he always could.

“I’ll be there, too, sweets.” She looked at him, surprised. He only called her that when he was very serious, or occasionally when he was very drunk. “I’m not going to let you and Banner handle this yourselves. Give me _some_ credit. Just because I’m not there on paper doesn’t meant I’m not there in person. I’m not going anywhere.”

She handed him back the tablet and pulled her legs carefully through the railing, shifting so that she and Phil were facing the same direction. She wrapped her arms around her shins, pulling herself tightly together.

“I’m not asking you to like it,” he said. “I’m not asking you to save the world with it. I’m just asking you to accept it, and understand it, and _control_ it.”

“Why? Why can’t I just ignore it? Why is this so important to you?”

“I’ve seen what can happen when someone doesn’t have control.” His voice was harsh. “I’ve seen what has to happen when that does. I will not, _will_ not let you make me do that. Ever.”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t have to be the one.”

“Yes,” he said. “I would.”

Shame washed over her, and she sagged a little against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he leaned his cheek against her hair, so light she barely felt it. They sat for a moment, and at last she sighed.

“You’ve got a plan, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. “You always do.”

She felt him smile.

“Well,” he said, all studied casualness. “Maybe one or two.”

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki asks a favor.

Loki stepped off the elevator on his level, turned to his left to head toward his rooms and stopped dead. Aeslin stood at his door, just pulling her hand back from the pad that held the door chime. Recovering almost immediately, Loki headed toward her, his long legs quickly crossing the distance to his door.

“Taco day again already?” he said in greeting.

She laughed as she faced him, a little startled. “I actually have no idea,” she replied. “I just came to drop something off. Care to help me find out?”

He winced just a bit, feeling his sweaty shirt clinging awkwardly to his chest and back. “This second? I’m hardly suitable.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “I just got off a twelve-hour infirmary shift myself, and let me tell you, there are some _stupidly_ uncoordinated people in this building. So how about this? I can meet you back here in about a half hour, and we’ll investigate together.”

He smiled. “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

***

Loki was ready a little earlier than expected. Feeling a little restless, he left his rooms, preferring to wait in the hallway near the floor to ceiling window at the end of the corridor. He had been there only a few minutes when the door to the stairwell came rapidly open just a few feet from where he was standing. Caught off guard, Aeslin came to a halt with an unfamiliar squeaking noise.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you’d be right there.”

Loki blinked. “Arms,” he replied.

She stared back at him for a second, then held her arms out to the sides, undulating them a little. “Arms,” she repeated. “Two of them, in fact.”

“Right. I’ve just… you’ve always got them covered. It’s a little strange.”

“Well, I was kind of in a hurry, but don’t be alarmed.” She held up one of her jackets; this one was a deep blue. “I came prepared.” She slipped it on as they walked to the elevator, and Loki finally saw what the squeak had been.

“No boots, either,” he said as they stepped into the car. “Are you sure you’re who you say you are?”

She laughed as she pressed the button for the level. “You _are_ perceptive today. They, um-” There was a second’s hesitation. “They’re drying.”

They had gone down a few floors before he realized she wasn’t going to elaborate. He looked at her from the edge of his vision, but her attention was on the numbers as they counted down. He felt the sun on his skin, coming and going as the elevator dropped along the side of the building. It fell below street level, and Loki felt the back of his neck cool in the resulting shade. The doors opened, but he didn’t move. The words were out before he could stop them.

“Can we go?”

She put a hand on one of the doors to keep it open, a curious look on her face. “Go where?”

 _Humiliation complete_.

He batted the voice down and said the word, trying not to hate himself when he heard the plea beneath it. “Outside.”

She didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease. She simply walked back into the elevator, tapping the button for the main level. “We can’t be too long,” she merely said, “and I can’t take you far.”

“That’s all right,” he replied, congratulating himself just a bit on how calm his voice sounded. He waited patiently at the guard desk as the man fumbled through the process of attaching his shackle, then hers. They moved to the main doorway, and Loki stopped her just inside the doors.

“A moment.” He pushed the band up as far as it would go, then unrolled the sleeves of his shirt, buttoning the cuffs carefully and smoothing the fabric.

“No one knows,” she told him.

He shook his head, holding the glass door open and following her out. “I know,” he said, and then he was into the streets of the city, with its sounds and colors and no walls at all. They walked for a few minutes until they reached a small cafe, nestled in the shadow of a huge stone facade. He slouched in his chair and lifted his face to the sky that peeked above and between the buildings around him.

“Hungry?” he heard her ask.

He smiled, not taking his eyes off the jagged blue and white overhead. “Doesn’t matter.”

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fury is reminded that resources take many forms, some more obvious than others.

Aeslin was in the medical bay on shift when Coulson called her. She agreed to come up for the briefing and entered the conference room only a few minutes later. Fury was linked in, but otherwise the room was empty. She sat across from him, looking curious.

“I’ve got an 0-8-4,” he said, wasting no time. “I’d like you to come along.”

“Why do you need me?”

Coulson pulled up a brief transmission. “Because we’re not sure what it is. Other than a body and some wreckage, that is. I could use your brain, and I could also use help with any other brains we bring along.”

“Do we have any idea what  _ kind  _ of body?”

“Probably not our kind. No other real details yet.”

He saw her hesitate for a moment. “I’d really like you there,” he said, his tone light. “And besides… it’s still in the job description, right?”

“It’s not that,” she said with a slight laugh. “I’m in. You know that. But I think there’s someone else we need to take.”

“Who?” Coulson turned to the screen, where Fury loomed large. “Whom? It sounds so awkward.”

“Do I _look_ like an English teacher to you?”

“No, but that would be kind of awesome,” replied Aeslin. “Think of the results you’d get. Either that, or you'd have an incredible dropout rate. Maybe not, then. Never mind.”

“Who, then?” Phil asked.

“Loki.” She held up a hand as the Director opened his mouth. “And hear me out on this. SHIELD is all about using whatever tools it has at its disposal, whether that’s technology or people. You’ve got someone sitting twelve floors above us who’s over a thousand years old and who has experience with things we can’t even imagine. He’s got vast amounts of knowledge locked away in there.” Here she looked at Coulson. “If we’ve got something that’s new to us, he might be able to shed some light on things.”

Fury snorted. “But would he?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Why not?” she asked. “It’s just an idea. Think about it, though. You’re overlooking a resource that was literally dropped into your lap. And if nothing else, you’ve got an ex-god of mischief in your building who is exceptionally smart and exceptionally bored. That’s also something to consider.”

“We can’t trust him,” Fury said bluntly.

“No. You can’t. But you can control him, to a certain extent.”

Coulson had been thinking quietly as they spoke. He watched Aeslin, seeing how she kept her arms crossed in front of her body, still uncomfortable in her own skin. Her bearing had a new, strange weight to it, and he could tell the new burden she carried did not yet rest well on her shoulders. He wished for the thousandth time that he could take it from her. He and Banner had done what they could, but he wondered if it had been enough. She had kept largely to herself when she wasn’t with him, spending hours on end out of sight. She needed to get out, to be something else again, if only for a little while. To have a sense of normalcy. And if this was the way to do it, Coulson was willing to take a chance.

Coulson waited for a pause in the conversation, then addressed Fury. “I’ll back her on this,” he said to the Director’s clear surprise. “She has a valid point. I think we should at least make the request.”

“And what happens if it goes south?” Fury’s voice betrayed nothing.

“Leave it to us,” replied the agent. “We haven’t let you down yet.”

The Director sighed, then nodded. “Agreed.” He signed off, his mind already somewhere else.

Coulson folded his arms. “I notice you didn’t mention that he’s already helped once,” he said. “Let me guess. You left that part out of Fury’s briefing?”

“Of course,” she said. “My brains didn’t get  _ that _ scrambled. And you’d better not tell him, either. Can you imagine what he’d do if he found out I let a former demigod with Loki’s history into Banner’s lab, especially given what we had to show him? He’d fire both of us. Probably into space. In pieces.”

“Speaking of which,” Coulson said, “I want tall, dark and grumpy linked to you. Once he leaves this building, he becomes your responsibility. Completely.” He looked intently at her. “Are you willing to take that on again? Because otherwise there’s no deal. I can’t…” he stopped, suddenly awkward.

“You can’t worry about both of us,” she finished. “And I’m not going to tell you not to worry about me, because you’ll do what you want. But I’m all right.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t say _great_ ,” she clarified. “But it’s enough, at least most days.”

“Go talk to him. See if he’ll come along, but make it snappy. Wheels up in an hour, with or without him.”

“Will I be flying?”

“Nope,” he responded. “I want you to focus on your jobs. Besides,” he finished, “we’re taking the Bus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, Fury as an English teacher. I die.
> 
> "Sir? Aren't there two e's in committee?"  
> (that stare)  
> (that stare again)  
> "You know what? Never mind. Three it is."


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new adventure with a slightly rocky start. Or, what else is new?

Loki stood in the middle of the half-lit training room, his arms loosely at his sides. In one hand, he carried a thin rod half the length of his forearm, weighted to mimic a knife. He bowed his head and listened. Three tiny beeps to count down the time. From behind him, he sensed one shadow, then another. Seconds passed as he allowed them to come closer.

Then he moved.

He whirled through the semi-darkness, lashing out at the shapes that encroached him. Human figures flickered by, and he dodged and spun, his mock knife gleaming like muted silver. A slash there, a flick here, and each shadow exploded into glittering shards. A sharp heat on his back - the sign of a hit. He stabbed backward, again cursing his body for its unaccustomed sluggishness. As if in response, the shadows came faster, and he fought back, silent but for the sound of his feet on the floor. The back of his neck prickled, and all at once he became aware of a presence behind him. Flipping the rod in his hand, suddenly angry at the intrusion, he whirled, bringing the weapon up and within a hair’s breadth of the newcomer’s throat. The room was still, save for the harsh sound of his breathing.

Aeslin looked at him, unfazed. She stood perfectly still in the half-light, and when he said nothing, she raised one finger and gently but firmly pushed the rod from her neck. Loki wasn’t quite sure what happened next. There was a sudden blur of movement, and he felt cool hands on his skin. The room flipped, and he landed flat on his back on the floor. The thud echoed through the narrow space. The ceiling spun lazily above him for a moment, and his back ached where he had been dropped. He lay for a second, pulling his shocked brain back to the present. Her face came into upside-down focus, backlit by the lights recessed in the ceiling. Tendrils of hair brushed her cheek as she bent over him.

“If you’re done fighting shadows,” she said, not even breathing hard, “perhaps you’d care to come on an actual adventure.”

He rolled over painfully, pushing himself to his knees. She didn’t offer him a hand to help him, for which he found himself grateful. Instead, she waited for him to get to his feet.

“Give me your arm.”

“After _that_?” he retorted.

“Give. It.”

He held out a hand reluctantly, half expecting to go flying across the room, but she merely snapped on the metal wristband he had previously worn. He looked at it, then at her.

“I didn’t say yes.”

“We’re leaving headquarters,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“In fact,” she said casually, bending to retrieve the bags she had dropped on the floor when she had thrown him, “we’re leaving New York entirely.” She paused. “I mean, you don’t have to. You’re _more_ than welcome to stay here.”

He narrowed his eyes. Had he not known better, Loki would have sworn she was being almost coy.

“I’m just going to give you this,” she continued, handing him one of the bags. “And then I’m going to go hold the elevator for three minutes. It’s up to you.” Turning, she walked out of the training room, boots silent on the floor.

Two and a half minutes later, Loki walked into the elevator. He tossed his bag on the floor wordlessly, then stood next to her as she sent the car to the landing pad. He felt half-dressed and tugged at the hem of the clean tank top he had changed into as he retrieved a dress shirt from the bag. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, but the elevator had reached its destination before he got any further. The doors opened, and she retrieved his bag. He followed her as she walked down the hallway into the bright sunlight. Coulson met them halfway, talking over the sound of the engines.

“Just in time,” he said, taking one bag from Aeslin and leading them toward the Quinjet. “We’re ready to go.”

Loki followed him, but as he approached the jet, he found that his steps unconsciously slowed.  Beneath him, the metal bore the intricate, circular pattern left by the bridge. There were other circles scattered around the pad, but this one was darker and carved more deeply than the others, and he knew that it was where he had fallen. He came to a stop in the center of the ring, unable to go further. Aeslin turned at the bottom of the ramp.

“Coming?” He sensed more than heard her words.

Nodding, he forced himself to walk through the circle, holding his breath and keeping his eyes carefully forward until he was past the edge. On board, Coulson nodded to the pilot, whirling a finger above his head. The door closed, and Loki strapped himself into the seat next to Aeslin’s. Coulson took a chair across from them.

“I didn’t know Barton could fly the Bus,” she said to Coulson.

“He can’t. He’s just got some leave coming and said he’d drop us off on the way.”

The jet took off smoothly, and after a moment, Aeslin took off her seatbelt and moved to the cockpit.

“We’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes,” Coulson told Loki, taking in his disheveled state with a glance. “You might want to finish getting dressed, sport.”

Loki rolled his eyes as he pushed the harness off and stood. Walking to the rear of the jet where the bags had been dropped, he glanced around the dark displays and empty storage areas as he finished buttoning his shirt. Kneeling, he opened his bag again, pulling out a black coat. The leather was smooth beneath his fingers, and he tried it on experimentally. He found that it fit well, if not perfectly. It creaked reassuringly as he sat down again across from Coulson.

“Better?” he asked, holding out his arms slightly.

“Much,” said the agent, not even looking up from his display. “You’ll fit right in with all those other adorably eccentric library science teachers we have on staff.”

“I _heard_ that _,”_ Aeslin shouted from the cockpit. “And I’ll have you know that I did the best I could in a _very_ limited timeframe.”

“I gave you almost an hour,” shot back Coulson. “Are you going soft on me?”

“He wasn’t where I thought he’d be.”

“Quit making excuses.” He glanced up at Loki. “Next time pack him a tie. And a haircut.” He looked back down. “Damn hippies.”

Loki opened his mouth to respond, but Aeslin came from the cockpit and walked between them, shoving Coulson in the head as she did so. “Behave,” she said. “And if it bugs you so much, loan him one of the thirty I know _you_ brought. Besides, I hate picking out ties.”

Coulson grinned, tapping his tablet. “But you’re so _good_ at it.”

She slumped into the chair next to him, stretching her legs across the aisle and thumping her boots down into the seat adjacent to Loki’s. “Just because I’m good at something doesn’t mean I like it.” She peeked over the agent’s shoulder, poking at the display. He tried to slap her hand away without success.

“ _Ice_ land? Really?”

The jet began to ease downward. Coulson tucked the tablet into his suit jacket. “Iceland.”

“But we just went somewhere cold! Isn’t there a rotation? Surely there’s a rotation. I think I’m due for the Maldives. Why doesn’t anything ever happen in the Maldives? You could have warned me.”

“There will be cold weather gear for you on the bus,” he said. “I pride myself on not _having_ to warn you. It’s my job.” He glanced at Loki. “Some for you, too.”

“I doubt I’ll need it,” Loki said. “And I’ll choose my own nooses - sorry, _ties_ , if it’s all the same to you.”

Coulson grinned. “Don’t let me stop you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincere apologies for any library science teachers out there who may have been offended. SO not my intent. I love library science teachers, and they are invariably delightful souls who see the world in a very different light and I love them for it SO MUCH. <3 (And let's face it. If he WERE a library science teacher, the waiting list for his class would be longer than that of most Ivy League schools.) (You know I'm right.)


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Over 500 hits, guys! Thank you so much for all the love!! You know how to make a girl smile!**
> 
> In which Loki is awarded a title and has no idea what it means. He also gets a few introductions and some not-so-subtle advice.

The landing was brief, a mere opening of the ramp, and Barton was off the ground almost before the door had closed again. Several meters away sat a huge plane; it dwarfed the jet taking off nearby.

“The Bus,” Coulson said. “Mobile command station. They’re waiting for us.”

They walked quickly up the ramp, passing a pair of large black vehicles. Coulson led them through the plane, and Loki felt vibrations through his shoes as the massive beast came to life. They took seats in a main area and buckled. The plane accelerated smoothly and took off within moments. Soon after, Coulson stood.

“This way,” he said, gesturing for them to follow him.

The briefing room wasn’t as cramped as Loki thought it would be. He took a seat at the table next to a young man. There were brief introductions; the group seemed to consist of three other scientists and a pair of agents. Coulson stood next to the display.

“We received word this morning of an 0-8-4, as you all know,” he said. “The only thing we know so far is that a local hiking about an hour out of Reykjavik found a body and some wreckage.”

“What kind?”

“Probably not human. Other than that, we don’t know. We have some poor quality images uploaded from one of our contacts in Iceland, but nothing further.”

Aeslin tapped a stylus on the table. “Any information on the hiker?”

“He’s with one of our agents on the ground.” Here Coulson pulled up another screen with a photo, a map and some basic information. “Stigur Gunnarson.”

“Did he call the police first? Has the site been contaminated?” One of the other scientists. Loki thought for a moment. Westinghouse.

“No. He called us first.”

Aeslin raised an eyebrow. “And he has our number because…”

An answering smile. “Oh, we’re quite familiar with Mr. Gunnarson.” Coulson then pulled up a blurry pair of photos. “He managed to get these two photos before his phone went dead. He called us from his apartment in Reykjavik.”

The figure on the screen was indistinct, but definitely not human. It appeared to be armored, but details were almost non-existent. The second photo, which showed some wreckage, also gave no clues. Loki and the others stared at the blurry images, but no one said anything.

“They’re bad pictures,” Coulson admitted. “We’re having a hard time cleaning them up. By the time we get them the way we want them, we’ll be there already. Don’t worry about it. You’ll all get another chance to impress me.” He looked around the table. “Any questions?”

“Is Mr. Gunnarson being monitored in any way?” Aeslin asked. “Your information says that he doesn’t know why his phone died so suddenly. Could the same thing happen to him?”

“He is,” Coulson replied. “Landspital Hospital gave him a clean bill of health, and so has our agent.”

Loki noticed the flash of skepticism on her face. He found he didn’t blame her.

“We’ll go in remotely first,” the agent continued. “Sweep the area for any traces of pathogens or other anomalies before anyone sets foot on the site. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” He looked at the clock. “That’s all I have for you right now. I’ll keep you apprised if I get more information. Flight time should be around five and a half hours.” A brief smile. “Make yourselves at home.”

***

Aeslin led Loki down a flight of stairs and toward a series of long cubicles. She poked her head into one or two, then seemed to be satisfied. Stepping back, she let Loki have a look inside. A single bed, a few closed cupboards, a window. The bag that had held his clothing lay folded neatly on the blanket, and he slipped out of his jacket and laid it carefully on the bed.

“Bunks,” she explained. “You can store whatever you need here, take a nap in peace, whatever you’d like. It’s got great noise-cancelling tech installed. It will lock to your fingerprint.”

“And you?”

“I’m in the next one over.”

He followed her through the rest of her tour, taking in all the information easily. They ended up sitting near a table where several others were playing a card game.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked.

Loki laughed a little ruefully. “Not as wounded as my pride. I wasn’t expecting it from you.” He shook his head. “I underestimated you. Again.”

She shoved him gently with a shoulder. “Possibly a habit you should think about breaking.”

“Possibly.” He took a drink from a bottle of water as laughter erupted at the table. Loki glanced over.

“Poker,” she said by way of explanation, “but Coulson doesn’t allow gambling on the clock. They play for bubble gum and bragging rights.”

“Do you play?”

A new voice broke in. “She doesn’t like bubble gum.” One of the other doctors flopped down on the bench on Aeslin’s opposite side. Loki stifled a sigh and tried his best to look pleasant. Another interruption. Oddly, it reminded him of times spent vying with his brother for Odin’s attention, except there had so far been less bloodshed.

So far.

“She also wins too often. It makes people nervous.” The woman wiggled her fingers dramatically. “They think she’s got X-ray vision.”

Aeslin laughed a little awkwardly. “Nope. No X-ray vision. Thank goodness.”

The newcomer leaned around Aeslin, offering a hand to Loki. He shook it; she had a firm grip.

“Maris Lindsay,” she said. “Metallurgy.”

“Loki Laufeyson.” He scrambled for a moment.

“He’s my intern.” Aeslin came to his rescue. “Biogenetics rotation.”

“Jealous,” Maris said to Loki, her smile wide. “Nice to meet you. Good to see a new face around here.” She then turned to Aeslin. “How are you?” she asked, her face becoming concerned. “I’ve heard some rumors.”

Aeslin took a sip of her drink, but Loki noticed the fleeting tension in her face. “Rumors,” she said.

The other woman shrugged. “Just that something happened and you ended up in the hospital.”

“I did, but it’s all right. Just a temporary thing.” Aeslin smiled. “Everything’s fine. Why else would Coulson let me come along?”

“True,” Maris admitted, but looked a little dubious all the same.

Aeslin smiled. “I’m fine. Trust me.” She turned as someone at the table called her. A new game had been set up, this one with a board.

“We’ve got room for two more, if you’re in.”

“N-” was all Loki managed to get out before Aeslin stood, stepping firmly on his foot while she did so.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Just let us get refills.”

Loki stalked after her toward the bar. He leaned on the smooth wooden surface as she rummaged around. “I’d rather not,” he said.

“You don’t even know the game. I think you’ll like it. Or is the Goblin’s Teeth master too scared?”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not that.” He bent slightly over the bar, talking to the top of her head as she pulled a jar of cherries and a bottle from beneath the shelf. “I don’t know why I’m here. I know nothing of these people. And what’s an intern?”

Aeslin stood rapidly, barely missing his face on her way up. He dodged backward, knowing full well she had done it on purpose. “First. Intern. Student. Trainee. Henchman.” She tossed cherries and ice into the bottom of her cup. “Second. You’re here because you can make yourself almost presentable in two minutes flat. I still haven’t decided if that’s something you should be proud of or not. Second-B. I asked Coulson to bring you with us, because unless those pictures are really bad, this is something we’ve never seen before. That doesn’t mean _you’ve_ never seen it. And third, it’s a perfect setup. They don’t know anything about you, either.” She poured a dark, fizzing liquid over the cherries and grabbed a long-handled spoon. “It’s a chance for you to start over. Make friends. Allies, if that’s what you prefer to call them, and let me tell you right now that you are  _not_ to refer to them as peasants, underlings or basically _any_ thing you called me in the first two weeks I was down there.”

“I did apologize for that.”

“Only after three straight hours of Queen.”

“Is that what you call it? Because where I come from, that’s called torture.” He leaned across the bar, bringing his face within inches of hers. “And there are  _rules_.”

She said nothing; her look spoke volumes on its own. After a moment, Loki decided it was best to cut his losses. “Allies it is,” he said, clearing his throat. “Please continue.”

A slight smirk. “What I was going to say,” she continued, “is if you’re going to be here for the foreseeable future, you need to become something other than what you’ve been.”

“Which is?”

A quick stir. “Depressed. Mopey. Bored. Overlooked. Grumpy. Stagnant. Wasted. Superfluous. Prickly. I could go on, if you’d like. I have a list around here somewhere.”

“I think you’ve made your point.”  

“I’m just saying this could be the beginning of a good thing for you. You’ve helped me, so maybe it’s time to help yourself, or at least broaden your horizons a bit.” She indicated her cup. “Would you like one?”

He sighed. “By all means.”

She repeated the process. “I know you like to keep to yourself, but it’s not great to always be alone. You have to make some concessions.” Another spoon. “We’ve still got a few hours. Phil likes to have his teams cohesive, so play nice.” She handed him his cup.

Loki took an experimental sip. “This is strange.”

“It gets better,” she said.

They walked back toward the table. “I meant the drink.”

“That, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (it's Diet Coke with maraschino cherries in it. My beta unit originally asked why she was adding beer to cherries. (I love my beta unit.) I thought a clarification might be in order.)


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki finds a new game, learns that his coworkers talk a LOT and discovers that creeps are pretty much universal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **a quick update because dancerinthestorm asked so nicely. thanks for the love, y'all!**
> 
> ***author's note: when I originally started this story several months ago, i picked names for my original characters. one is named Joshua Parker. then i started looking at AO3 and was like, Parker, Parker. who the heck is this Parker everyone is already posting about?
> 
> oh RIGHT. spider-man. my Parker is not spider-man. he's an astrobiologist who works for SHIELD. i'm not even sure spider-man exists in my AU because clearly he's not that important since I FORGOT HIM COMPLETELY.
> 
> Joshua Parker (hereinafter "Parker" because he doesn't like his first name) DOES NOT EQUAL SpiderdashMan. But he is a pretty important character and I wasn't sure if I could replace all the uses of his name without missing one and confusing everything.
> 
> No SpiderdashMen involved. If it gets too confusing, I can change it. Just let me know.***  
> 

The game was simple enough, on the surface. Aeslin sat across the table from him; they were separated by the three other players. Much of the play involved building and trading. He quickly learned the personalities of each player and brought his skills to the fore. Misdirection. Persuasion. Manipulation. He remembered the advice to play nice, for the most part, and was only kicked in the shins once as a reminder. There was good-natured ribbing going on between the other players and the occasional joke that went over his head, but he felt surprisingly content. They carried no expectations of him.

It took over two hours to finish the game, though, and by then Loki was ready for a break. He gathered his pieces, thanked the others for the game and went back to his cubicle. As he walked, Coulson’s voice came over the speakers.

“We’ll be landing in a little more than forty minutes, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll leave directly from the hangar. Any prep that you need, now’s the time.”

Loki continued walking toward his bunk, pressing his finger on the pad in order to open it. He retrieved his coat, then took his time getting back to the central area. Leaning back in his chosen seat, he stretched, closing his eyes. He felt the plane bank gently and heard a soft swish of fabric as someone took the seat next to his. His nose twitched slightly. A perfume. Not her, then. He opened his eyes.

“Ever been to Iceland before?” Maris said.

“No,” Loki told her, though he was actually unsure. Names and places changed so frequently on this world.

“Me neither,” she replied. “I had plans to, once upon a time, but it never actually worked out. How long have you been with SHIELD?”

“Not long,” he replied.

“I would think not, if you’re still on rotations. Where have they been keeping you?”

“I’ve been in New York for the last few months,” he said. The truth. Technically.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you,” she said as the other members of the team trickled in and took seats. “I’ve been at the Academy.”

“I’m not familiar with that.”

“If you’re just starting, you probably wouldn’t. I’ve been down there pretty solidly for the last couple of years. I think that’s why I’m so excited to actually get out for once.”

Loki smiled, the irony not lost on him. “I don’t blame you.”

A light came on, and everyone began putting on seatbelts. Loki did the same as the plane began sinking slowly, absently wondering where Aeslin was. He glanced out the window to see Iceland spread below them. The runway rose quickly to meet them, and there was a heavy vibration as the wheels made contact. They were far from the buildings Loki could see in the distance and eventually turned away from them. Finally, it came to a stop, and the others stood and collected their things, heading toward the rear of the plane. Loki followed last, pulling his jacket on.

Coulson and the other agents met them in the bay with the two vehicles. The large ramp opened, and the vehicles slowly backed out. The group followed, pulling on hats and coats as they stepped into the cold breeze.  Loki allowed himself a brief smile. It was a little cool to him, but nothing like it was to them.

 _Another failure of the All-Father_ , he thought. The idea warmed him a little more.

The cars stopped several meters away, and a third, smaller vehicle pulled up a few moments later. Aeslin stepped out of the first SHIELD vehicle. She had exchanged her normal coat for a fitted leather one with a SHIELD patch on the right shoulder. The sleeves were still longer than normal, extending down onto her hands. Underneath, she wore fingerless gloves. She pulled on a dark green knit hat as she came to stand next to Coulson and Loki.

Two men exited the third vehicle, the first obviously a SHIELD agent, and the other a tall, gangly man with several days’ growth of auburn beard and a bright blue hat. He had a friendly, open face and immediately went to Coulson.

“Agent Coulson!” he said with a heavy accent. “So good to see you again at last!”

Coulson gave a brief smile. “Hello, Mr. Gunnarson.”

“A whole team!” replied the man, taking in all of the other with a spread of his arms.

“Indeed, and we’ve come a very long way.” Coulson gestured to each of them in turn. “Parker, Westinghouse, Lindsay, Kindle and Laufeyson.”

Loki had to keep himself from taking a step back when Gunnarson turned on him, the other man was so effusive. “Ah!” he said. “Another from the great countries!”

Loki smiled as best he could. “You could say that.”

Gunnarson nudged him with a bony elbow. “No need to bother with a hat, eh?”

A sudden small cough from Aeslin. Loki glanced at her, then back at Gunnarson. “I’m not troubled by the cold.”

The red-headed man laughed and slapped Loki on the back. “A man of our own blood!” he crowed. “We will drink to that tonight!”

“Later,” Coulson said, gently steering Gunnarson away from Loki and toward the first SHIELD vehicle. “You have something to show us first.”

“Yes!” Gunnarson climbed into the passenger seat, and Aeslin moved around to reclaim the driver’s seat. Parker and an agent slipped into the back seat, and Coulson and Loki sat behind the driver’s and passenger’s seat, respectively. The doors slammed, and Gunnarson directed them away from the airfield. He spoke rapidly, and Loki found it occasionally hard to follow his train of thought.

“What were you doing near Keldur?” Coulson asked him.

“Cleansing.”

Loki blinked. “What do you mean?”

Gunnarson turned back in his seat. “Keldur’s not too far from one of the two major ley lines that run through Iceland. You would think that two powerful lines like we have would make for really great stuff, but Iceland’s full of extremely negative energy. Keldur’s a hot spot based on its history, and I go there every year to try to do what I can. There had been reports of a light about a week ago, but everyone chalked them up to the aurora. Nothing big. I mean, if it had been near Hellnar…” Here he trailed off expectantly, looking between the two men with a sort of stupidly optimistic expression.

“The glacier.” Aeslin finally broke the increasingly awkward silence, not taking her eyes off the road as it unwound before them. “There’s a massive line that runs there, and those who go for those sorts of things believe that there’s a powerful vortex through the glacier which runs all the way to the center of the earth.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Jules Verne. Come on, guys. You’re embarrassing me.”

Gunnarson was looking at her with a new sense of appreciation. “Thank _you_ , Doctor Kindle,” he said with a smile that bordered on a leer. Loki folded his arms casually to keep from punching him in the face.

“Please continue,” Coulson said.

“Not much more to say. I was about a mile from the main buildings when I saw what looked like a debris trail. I followed it, and as soon as I realized what I was looking at, I started taking pictures.” He frowned slightly. “My phone died after less than a minute, and it had been fully charged. I went back to my car, drove back to my apartment, and contacted you straight away. Then I called Ulfstan. He took me to hospital and had them check me out.”

“We’ll have Dr. Kindle do an additional exam, if you don’t mind.”

“No,” he said, looking at her again with that smile. “I don’t mind at all.”

Loki seethed. He looked out at the landscape as a distraction, but he found himself almost immediately daydreaming of throwing Gunnarson out the window. A sudden image of Aeslin standing over him in the training room came to him, and he changed the image to involve _her_ tossing the man to the wolves. It was much more satisfying.

“-condition of the body?” he heard Aeslin’s voice and dragged his mind back to the task at hand.

“Not great,” Gunnarson admitted. “The weather’s been pretty dry, but there was some rain earlier this week. Scavengers seem to be leaving it alone, though.”

“Pretty smart of them,” Coulson said.

“I don’t blame them,” replied the man. “It’s just weird.”

“Did you touch anything?” Aeslin asked.

Gunnarson looked slightly embarrassed. “I stay up too late to watch TV,” he said. “I’ve seen enough movies to know better. I poked it with a stick.”

“And is the stick okay?” she continued. Loki watched her, impressed at how straight a face she was keeping.

“Sort of.”

“Describe ‘sort of.’”

“There was an arc, I think. It got a little burned. And it-” here his face blanched a little, “it got stuck.”

“An arc, like electricity?”

Gunnarson nodded. “Not to the stick, of course. Against itself, maybe.”

“No other reactions.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I waited for a few minutes to see what else would happen, then started to photograph.” He gestured to the left. “Turnoff is up here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (bonus points if you know what they're playing.) :D


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki has a hard time following instructions, or, how some things never change.

They offered Gunnarson the option of staying near the vehicles, but he chose to accompany them to the crash site. He walked next to Aeslin, giving her a commentary of the area and his experiences, and she seemed to be listening fairly intently. Loki walked next to Maris, who kept watching her tablet for signs of energy spikes and occasionally tripped. He caught her the second time, and she thanked him for saving her. He nodded silently, but the fact that she kept hold of his elbow wasn’t lost on him. In her defense, though, the path was quite damp, with dried grass making the situation worse. They crested a small hill, and everyone stopped for a moment, taking in the crash site below them. Maris dropped the pretense and Loki’s arm, staring with her mouth slightly open.

Coulson stepped next to them. “Anything?”

“Readings are quiet,” Westinghouse said. “I think it’s dead, in all the ways that matter.”

“Get the drones ready,” he said, “just in case. We go in slow. Take your time, and don’t touch anything.”

Loki noticed that Aeslin carried nothing. Her tablet was tucked away inside her jacket, and she was just observing. He and the others followed Coulson down the slope carefully. Her steps were fearless, unlike the others; she went down the hillside in a sort of controlled skid. Her pace was loping and even. He realized that she was measuring her steps, marking the distance in her head from the top of the hill to the edge of the debris field. Ignoring the others, she walked the perimeter, her head down. She seemed to be in her own world, and after several moments, even Gunnarson stopped following her.

The others stood at the edge of the field with tablets in hand, gathering all the information that they could. Loki walked past them to the ship itself, staring down at the wreckage.

The pilot was barely visible amid the tangle of metal, but Loki doubted that it would look much different had it been in one piece. He walked carefully around the ship, hoping for some sort of tingle in his head that would tell him everything he wanted to know. Nothing came. There was no recognition, though he felt there should have been. Surely the libraries would have held something on a race advanced enough for this technology. Even the Dark Elves were in the records, and they had been barely a memory for thousands of years. He circled again, with the same result. He crouched near the pilot, reaching out against everything telling him not to, and touched its helmet.

Nothing.

Aeslin knelt next to him, heedless of the mud on the ground. “I could quarantine you for that,” she said conversationally. “Lock you in a room and make you write ‘I can follow directions’ a hundred times, or at least until your hand melts off from some alien pathogen.” She paused, tilting her head to one side as she studied the figure. “And then I’d just make you change hands.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She reached forward and nudged the stick that was lodged near the creature’s neck. “Challenge accepted,” she agreed absently. “Cargo bay, 0100 hours.” She tipped her head toward him, her voice an exaggerated whisper. “Bring extra bandaids for your ego.” He looked over at her, but she was still looking at the wreckage. “He’s right. I think the body’s breaking down, but not as fast as it could be.” She rocked back on her heels. “No obvious injuries. I wonder if it was dead before it hit the ground.”

“No obvious controls, either,” Loki observed.

“Probably completely cybernetic,” she replied. “It might not even need them.” Gently maneuvering the stick again, she tilted her head back other way. “I’d be curious to see if it’s got vocal cords.”

He reached out to touch it again, and she flicked his hand with a finger. “Stop it,” he said. “That hurts.”

“ _Y_ _ou_ stop it,” she said. “You’re worse than Parker.”

“You’re touching it.”

“I’m touching the  _stick_. And I’m a professional.”

“Apparently, so am I.”

“Interns on rotation aren’t professionals,” she said airily. “They just want to be.” She pulled a small case from her pocket and snapped it open. “May I see your hand?”

“Is this a trap?”

“No,” she said, gesturing expansively with the device in her hand. “This is _science_. I need a tissue sample.” She reached out and firmly took his wrist, then placed the edge of the case against his index finger. There was a sharp series of pricks, and when the device was lifted off, Loki had been left with a small circular pattern of shallow punctures. She pulled a wrapped piece of gauze from her pocket and ripped it open, then wiped off the top of his finger. The bleeding stopped almost instantly.

“The marks will go away in a day or two,” she said. “Thank you. You’ve actually saved me a couple of steps.”

“You’re welcome, I think?” He shook his hand to take away the residual sting.

Tapping the screen, she shut the case again and tucked it away. “Anything?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” Loki glanced over his shoulder. “I failed the test, I’m afraid.”

A slight grin. “It’s not a test, or at least it’s not the kind you think. Don’t feel bad. People fail Phil all the time. He expects it. The important thing is that you’re willing to keep working. That’s what he cares about.” She nudged him, none-too-gently. “Besides, not even Phil can expect you to know everything about this in the first twenty minutes. Cut yourself some slack.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, bracing herself as she stood up, then resumed her slow exploration. After a moment, Loki followed. He found himself using the same measured stride as she did, and they covered ground surprisingly quickly. “Not a huge debris trail,” she mused. “I would have expected it to break up as it came in.” They made a large half-circle, ending up on the other side of the cockpit.

“I think it came through in one piece,” he said. “Whatever happened, it happened quickly, and after it had entered atmosphere.”

“Maybe go check with Maris,” she seemed to be thinking aloud. “See if there’s anything in the readings that might indicate structural weaknesses. And remember - you’re in genetics.” He nodded, turning, then realized she wasn’t following. “I’ll catch up,” she said, seeming to sense his hesitance. “I just need a few more minutes.”

Loki trudged back toward the hill, and Coulson met him about halfway.

“Anything?”

“No. She’ll be back in a moment.”

Coulson looked up at the sky. “Can’t stay much longer. It’s going to be dark soon, and we can’t do a full setup here. I don’t want to attract attention.” He turned to Westinghouse. “How long?”

“Thirty minutes,” he said. “That should give us enough information to get a good start on tomorrow.”

“I’ll give you forty-five,” Coulson said. “Be sure to get everything you can.” He passed Loki on his way toward the wreckage. “Help them out, would you?”

Loki nodded, making his way toward the others. Westinghouse handed him a piece of equipment. “Find anything useful to you down there?”

“Not a thing,” he admitted. “What can I do to help?”

Westinghouse handed him a piece of equipment. “All right, Mr. Rotational Biogenetics. Ever use a mini mass-spec?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” said the engineer. “Let’s hope you’re a quick study.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *I meant to post sooner, but weekends tend to be crazy at my house. So here are two more to make up for it. :) Thanks for all the love! I'd really like to get some reviews. I'm curious as to how it's working.*  
> 

In less than an hour, they were packed up and back on the road. Night was falling as they drove west toward Reykjavik; the SUV was more crowded this time around. All three scientists had insisted on riding together, and they crowded in the back seat, chattering excitedly among themselves. Stigur had taken the front seat again, and Loki and Coulson sat behind him. The young man talked excitedly to Aeslin for most of the way home, his topics ranging from the mundane to the obscure to the ridiculous. Loki did his best to ignore the man, staring out the window at the growing darkness.

They arrived at the airfield sooner than expected, and Aeslin pulled the vehicle directly into the hold. After retrieving their coats, the three scientists went further in. Stigur practically leapt from the front seat, eager to follow them, but Coulson put a warning hand on his arm. “Sorry, Mr. Gunnarson. We’ve got other plans for you. Dr. Kindle’s going to have a look at you.”

Stigur grinned at Aeslin. “Lead the way, Doctor.”

***

A while later, Aeslin appeared at the doorway of the lab and walked over to where Coulson and Parker were reviewing one of the scans. Loki looked up from his own display, where Maris was having him run comparisons on the craft’s composition.

“Where’s Gunnarson?” Coulson asked.

“Ulfstan is taking him home.”

“And what’s your verdict?”

“He’s low on iron and vitamin D, and he needs a girlfriend. Badly.” She stripped off her lab coat and handed it to Parker, who took it with a confused look on his face. She wore only a plain, short-sleeved shirt underneath, and Loki could see goosebumps rise on her arms almost immediately. The metal band around her wrist gleamed dully in the lights.

“What do I do with this?” Parker asked her.

“Burn it,” she told him bluntly. “Pour salt on the ashes. Then maybe burn it again, just to make sure.” An almost invisible shudder rippled through her shoulders. “I need a shower.” With that, she left the lab, hands already working to pull her hair from its pins. Within seconds, she was gone again.

Parker held up the coat on one finger in the ensuing silence. “Anyone got a match?”

Coulson tsked. “You work for SHIELD, son.”

“Meaning?” the biologist’s brows quirked.

A gentle scoff. “ _Matches._ ”

***

Later that evening, they regrouped in the open area on the Bus. The lab coat had been disposed of, as requested, and there was still a faint scent of explosives in the air. Loki had to hand it to Coulson; the man was thorough, and he had a certain, occasional flair that never failed to surprise him. Aeslin had reappeared some time after the ashes had been ritually scattered to the winds outside, looking more like her old self. Food had been delivered in her absence from a local restaurant, enough to feed a small army.

Loki brought his soup and bread to the table, a few seats away from Aeslin. There was easy chatter until Westinghouse began a sentence with “Do you think that-”

He was promptly cut off by a crust thrown at his face. “You know the rule,” said Maris. “No business at the table. Eating and thinking is bad for your brain.”

“But we’re talking about possible first contact.”

Maris chuckled. “I don’t think it’s _f_ _irst_ contact,” she said. “There was that mess in New Mexico.” Loki ducked his head, ostensibly to try his soup, but mostly to cover the look he was sure was on his face. He sneaked a glance at Aeslin, who was very casually not looking in his direction. “Besides,” she went on, “there are other things to talk about.” She turned to Aeslin. “I hear the doctor’s a doctor. Again.” She rolled her eyes a little too obviously to be rude.

Aeslin nodded. “Finally.”

“And you think you’re done this time?”

“Yep.” There was scattered laughter, and she held up her hands in surrender. “Honest and for true.”

“We’ll see,” said Westinghouse. “You pick them up more often than most people get tattoos.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I got one of those, too. Had to cover all my bases.”

“Wild woman,” joked Maris as Parker’s fork dropped to the table with a clatter. “And more committed to the pursuit of knowledge than most people I know. What’s next? Full agent status? Assistant Director of SHIELD?”

“Doubtful.” Aeslin chuckled.  “Diplomacy isn’t my strong suit. I’ve received a few offers, but nothing solid. I think I’ll be sticking around for a while.”

Parker raised his plastic cup. “I propose a toast, then. To Dr. Aeslin Kindle, who goes where others fear to tread.” Glasses were raised, and Aeslin smiled.

“Thanks.”

Maris rattled the ice in her cup. “Are you going to walk?”

Loki felt the conversation start to go over his head, and he just listened as he ate.

“Absolutely not,” Aeslin laughed. “I think I’ve done that quite enough.” She tore a piece of bread, dipping it into her soup. “I am thinking of getting the full doctoral regalia, though, and wearing it around the office for a few days to see if anyone notices. Make constant references to how they do things across the pond and awkwardly fish for compliments while I’m in the cafeteria line. It could be fun.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Westinghouse laughed. “Be sure to let me know when you’re planning it.”

She nodded as Coulson made his way into the room. “I’ll send around an email when I’m ready to start the DC leg of the tour.”

Coulson beckoned to Aeslin as he went over to the food table, and she excused herself and joined him. They spoke quietly and easily as the agent got his meal; at one point it was clear that Coulson was miming an explosion. After a moment, they both headed toward the spiral staircase that led to the upper level and his office. As they passed the table, Coulson stopped.

“I’m going to borrow your tour guide for a minute,” he said. “We’ve got to get some things started upstairs, but it won’t take long. Good work, though. I’m impressed. Keep it up.” With a smile, he continued up the stairs, Aeslin close behind him.

She returned after only a few minutes, her boots thumping on the stairs.

“Retrieval flight’s been approved,” she said. “They’ll be wheels up from DC in about two hours and should get here early tomorrow morning, local time at least. Once it’s light, they’ll head out to Keldur and start pulling everything out of the ground.”

“Will we still have access once they move it?” Westinghouse leaned forward.

Aeslin sat. “Probably? That part wasn’t clear. Yes, to all the scans and data. Those won’t be taken away, and it’s plenty to work with for now.”

“You almost make it sound like you’re not going to be a part of this,” Parker said. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Besides, I’m the epi specialist. Some of my scans are still pending, but I’ve got no hits. No contagion, no problem. I’ll be keeping tabs on our friend Stigur for a minute or two, from _very_ far away, and if anything weird starts showing up, I’m sure I’ll be back here before I can even tie my shoes. But from here on out, I’m essentially your liaison.”

Maris’ brow knit. “You don’t seem too sad about that.”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” she said. Loki could tell that she clearly wanted the conversation to end.

“You mean besides an alien?” The other woman’s look said everything.

“You’ve got pull and seniority,” Parker added. “I would be all over this if I were you. What else are you working on? A new secret project for Fury?”

“Not that it matters, but no.” She walked over to the bar and pulled a bottle of water from under the counter. “Play in the lab for a while,” she told them, “and then you should get some sleep. Things are going to get very busy in a very short amount of time.”

“Just the way I like them,” Westinghouse said. He stood to return to the lab area, and the others followed suit. Maris tugged at Loki’s jacket gently as she walked by.

“Coming, Mr. Laufeyson?”

Aeslin was already heading aft, away from the group. He felt torn for a fraction of a second, but another pull, more insistent, had hold of his sleeve. More than that, he was here for a reason, and it was obvious she didn’t want to be bothered.

“Yes,” he said, hearing the distraction in his own voice. “I’m coming.”

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where dream and memory meet.

Two hours later, with scans in progress and no new information, Loki had bid good night to the others and gone to his bunk. Shucking off his jacket, boots and shirt, he sat on the bed and pulled up the display at one end. Aeslin had briefly shown him how the environmental controls worked, as well as the noise-cancelling software. She had also taught him how to bring up ambient noise, saying that while some people preferred to sleep in silence, others liked to relax or meditate instead. 

A little skeptical, he toyed with the settings. He was struck again how different this world was from his - Asgard based on a blending of science and magic so seamless that one could barely tell the difference between the two, and this world, with its technology by turns awkward and nearly flawless. Loki felt a sudden stab of loneliness in the silence of his bunk, and he tapped the screen for a soft mixture of waves, wind and rain. He pulled a blanket over his lower body and lay on his back with his head in his hands. He had thought he would stay awake, troubled by the puzzle of the wreckage. Instead, soothed by the sounds, he dropped quickly to sleep.

***

_ Her name is Signe, and she is beautiful. Hair the color of leaves in autumn and a laugh that sparkles like sunlight on water. She is brought to foster in the keep of the All-Father, though he is never sure why. There has been no war, no spoils. She is to be trained as a lady, the boy thinks, though she does not need it. Light flows through her, in every movement, and he cannot help but love her. _

_ She does not return his love, though he convinces himself otherwise. She teases him. Teaches him. All the while her laughter swirls in his ears and intoxicates him. _

_ It is spring before she tells him that she is meant for another and always has been. She speaks of a high castle above the bay, of beautiful flame-haired children who will look like their father. A lesser noble, the boy knows, but one who may be enough to fill her dreams. She leaves him with a kiss on the cheek and a smile like the moonlight, and that night he shuts himself in his rooms and does not come out for days. His father and brother laugh. They mock him and the sorcery he must have if he can make so much out of nothing. His brother’s teasing is almost bearable. His father’s is not. He never speaks of it to his mother, but she knows her son better than any of them, and that it was never nothing. Not to him. _

_ He dreams of Signe again this night, with her slender arms and silvery voice. She darts through the gardens of Odin’s castle, and he can do nothing but follow. He quickly loses sight of her, but the game is a familiar one; he knows where she will go. He climbs the steps to the Queen’s garden, the entrance hidden from those who do not know what to look for. The gates open at a touch, and he slips up the few stairs and across the paving stones with no sound. He can sense her, though she is always a few steps ahead of him. A flash of movement here, a glimpse of silken fabric there. He follows her through the twilight, his steps deliberate and unhurried. He has waited this long. He can wait a little longer. _

_ At last, he reaches the overlook. She stands in shadow at the edge of the garden, gazing out over the glittering city below. The last fireflies of the season drift lazily through the branches above her head, mimicking the lights of the palace and casting their fitful glow across her hair and shoulders. Leaves scatter in a sudden breeze. They drift around him, silver-white with dark veins. He walks closer, standing behind her and trailing one hand along her arm. It is a comforting gesture, made all the better by the feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingers. She turns to him, a playful smile on her lips, and only then does he see that it is not Signe at all. _


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki likes to sleep in on occasion. Someone didn't get the memo. Also, how kleptomania in the name of Science is _completely_ excusable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for all the love, everyone! Leave reviews if you can, because they're pretty much addicting. <3

Loki hovered at the edge of sleep, comfortable and content. He lay on his stomach, enveloped by his blanket. His dreams had been pleasant and vivid. He basked in a warm silence that was broken only by the soft sound of breaking waves. He found that he didn’t even want to move, and he closed his eyes again, sinking back toward welcome oblivion.

He was almost there when a sudden, insistent pounding jolted him to full consciousness. Opening his eyes to mere slits, he fumbled for the door lock. Stretching his arm out of the opening, he latched on to the first thing his fingers touched and yanked forward. There was a startled yelp as Westinghouse’s upper body came into view, his shirt crumpled in Loki’s fist.

“Speak quickly,” Loki growled, “and you _might_ live a while longer.”

Westinghouse’s voice was a little strangled. “Retrieval flight’s been grounded,” he managed.

Loki’s eyebrows lowered. He suddenly had no idea why that was so important, though a slightly less fuzzy part of his mind thought that perhaps he should. The man seemed distressed enough, at least. After a moment, Loki released the front of his shirt. Westinghouse stumbled backward, practically running back toward the briefing room. Shoving his feet into his boots, Loki followed.

He combed his fingers through his hair as he climbed the stairs, stomping up the risers a little louder than probably necessary.  They had been _very_ good dreams. He entered the briefing room, leaning against the doorjamb and folding his arms. Parker paced back and forth at the front of the room, alternately raising his voice and rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. Aeslin leaned against one of the displays, listening to him patiently as though he were the only one in the room. She looked worn, and Loki knew from her face that she hadn’t slept.

“We don’t know this, and we don’t know that,” Parker was saying. “What _do_ we know?”

Westinghouse raised his hand. “We know that Laufeyson doesn’t appreciate wakeup calls,” he volunteered, shooting a glance over his shoulder toward the doorway.

Maris looked back as well, taking in the rumpled tank top, jeans and untied boots. “Maybe you just didn’t do it right,” she said to Westinghouse, smiling at Loki.

Loki gave her a charming grin in return, wanting nothing more than to go back to bed. “There’s always tomorrow,” he managed cheerfully, able to practically hear Westinghouse’s eyes roll from across the room.

Parker glared at them, but before he could continue, Coulson pushed past Loki and came into the room. The young man looked hopeful, his righteous indignation temporarily derailed.

“I have confirmation from the Director,” he said. “The retrieval flight has indeed been grounded at the request of the Icelandic government. They’re taking over the investigation from here.”

“They’re not allowed to do that,” Parker said, his face falling again. He looked helplessly at Aeslin. “Are they?”

“They are,” she said. “The H stands for homeland. Technically, this isn’t our jurisdiction. If they ask us to leave, we leave.”

“But they let us in,” Maris said, shaking her head. “Did we come in under false pretenses?”

“No,” said Coulson. “Everything was in order. We did everything right. This isn’t unexpected. Once the site was determined to be safe, it was really only a matter of time.”

“We just did all the dirty work,” moped Parker, dropping into a chair.

“That’s part of our job,” replied Coulson with a trace of sympathy. “We have a very good relationship with the government here, and they’ve given us quite a few concessions. Once they’re finished with their analysis, they will be sharing any results they deem relevant. Besides, this is an alien on their home soil.” He shrugged. “That’s an announcement they should make to their own people. Otherwise, it could create a lack of trust, and we don’t need that right now.”

“What concessions?” Maris’ ears perked up.

“I’ve also confirmed what Dr. Kindle told you last night. We’re keeping all of our data. None of it will be confiscated, scrubbed or anything else. We’ll retain control over all the raw information we’ve gathered in the last couple of days. They’ve also promised not to sequester or punish Mr. Gunnarson for calling us first.”

A snort. “That’s decent of them,” said Westinghouse.

“That also means he’s still a resource for us,” Coulson went on. “We’ll keep in contact with both him and our agent in case there seem to be any other developments that we’re not being clued in to.”

Parker seemed determined to remain angry. “Scans and images are all well and good, but they’re just that. We assumed that we would have the entire body, so we don’t even have cell samples.”

“That’s not  _entirely_ true,” Aeslin said slowly.

Westinghouse looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you stole the body.”

“Nope.” She reached into her jacket and held up a red plastic bag. “Just the stick.”

Sheer joy lit Parker’s face. He stood and took the bag from Aeslin’s outstretched hand with reverence bordering on worship. Closing his eyes blissfully, he pulled her into a strong hug. “Bless you, you magnificent thing,” he said, kissing her noisily on the cheek and tightening his arms around her. After a moment, she awkwardly patted him on the back. He didn’t let go.

“Parker,” she finally said. “ _Parker._ ”

“Right,” he said quickly, pulling away. Clutching the bag to his chest, he grabbed her hand briefly. “ _You,_ ” he said again, before practically scampering past Loki and out the door. Exchanging a look, Maris and Westinghouse maneuvered past Loki and followed, leaving him alone with Coulson and Aeslin.

Not making eye contact with either of them, Coulson tucked his phone into his breast pocket. “I’m…” he shook his head, and Loki could see he was trying not to laugh. “I’m going to just pretend I didn’t see that. _Any_ of that.”

Aeslin tucked her hands into her pockets. “That’s wise.”

“I’ll just forget it ever happened.”

“Please do.”

“Especially that last-”

“Don’t.”

“I mean, even if we ignore the blatant breach of-”

“ _Quit_ _._ So help me, I _will_ hurt you.”

Coulson looked at the ceiling, trying to get himself under control. Laughter danced in the corners of his eyes.

“You should go fly the plane.”

“I’m not allowed to fly the plane,” he responded.

“Go try anyway. Make a scene. With any luck, they’ll tase you.”

Chuckling under his breath, Coulson walked to the doorway, excusing himself. Loki stepped out of the way long enough for the agent to turn around in the doorway.

“This isn’t over, Doctor.”

“ _Out_.”

Still laughing, the agent made his way down the corridor to the cockpit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if there's interest, I can post more frequently. I just haven't done this in so long that I'm never sure how to work it. :P


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of history, a little bit of slapstick, and a complete lack of common sense. He just might like this job after all.

Loki looked at Aeslin across the now-empty room. The silence stretched between them for a moment, and he found himself at a sudden loss for words. She pushed her hands into her pockets and regarded him curiously. “You okay?”

_I have no idea._

“Yes,” he said. “Westinghouse woke me rather suddenly, that’s all. He’s lucky to be alive.”

“And here I thought you were a morning person.”

“Is it morning?”

She looked briefly perplexed. “Maybe.”

“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Coffee, perhaps? That seems to be popular around here. Or will you be joining the others in the lab?”

“No, thank you,” she said, making a slight face, “and no to your second question, too. It’s going to be crazier than a box of baby pugs in there. Adorable, sure, but dangerous in large doses. Once they find the sample tubes I collected for them yesterday while they were too busy doing science, it will get even worse. I’ll wait.” She shook her head. “Assumed we’d have the body,” she said, almost to herself and with the closest thing to a giggle Loki had ever heard from her. Truly exhausted, then. She crossed the room toward him. “Doctors. I tell you what. Not an ounce of common sense between the three of them.”

“So you knew this would happen.”

“Pretty much.”

She walked with him to the stairs, taking her time. Coulson’s voice came over the speakers, advising them that the plane was ready for takeoff and to take seats. They sat along the wall, and Aeslin leaned her head back. “You missed our appointment,” she said to the ceiling.

He groaned slightly. “I did. I’m sorry. Did you wait long?”

A snicker. “I didn’t wait at all. I know how Maris is, and I knew they’d keep you busy. Then Fury got involved, and it went downhill from there. Just consider your punishment postponed.” She closed her eyes. “She thinks you’re handsome, you know.”

“Does she.”

“It’s the smile. She doesn’t use it on everyone.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“She also let you win.”

“That was obvious.”

“You could do worse, you know.”

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked as the plane rumbled louder.

She grinned, knowing exactly what he was doing. “It depends,” she said without opening her eyes. “Did we ever figure out what day it is?”

He cast around the room. “Monday. I think.”

“Then that would be…” she mimed counting on her fingers without bothering to look. “Way too long ago.”

“You should rest.”

“Mmhmm.”

The plane rose from the tarmac, and a few moments later, Loki felt the slight thump as the landing gear was pulled up. The plane banked as it climbed, and Aeslin’s head thumped firmly against his upper arm. He hadn’t realized she was already asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he shifted to a slightly more comfortable position and settled in for what he rather hoped would be a very long wait.

***

Maris joined them a little while later; Aeslin still slept heavily on Loki’s shoulder. She was very occasionally snoring; Loki hadn’t realized what the noise was at first and found it oddly entertaining.

“You should ask for extra credit if she drools on you,” Maris said. “It could also be an excellent negotiating tool when grant season comes around again.”

Loki grinned conspiratorially, having no actual idea what she was talking about. He made a mental note to ask Aeslin when she was conscious again. “I’ll have to remember that,” he said, keeping his voice down.

“You don’t have to be so quiet,” Maris replied. “She’s out cold.” At Loki’s quizzical look, she tapped the side of her nose. “It’s the snoring.”

“You know her well, then?”

“I used to,” Maris clarified. “We don’t see each other much anymore, maybe dinner once or twice a year. But I’ve known her since college.” She stretched her legs in front of her and ran a hand through her hair. “I was in my first year of grad school; I decided to buy a house, and the only one I could afford was an old, rattly blue one at the edge of town. Within the first week, I had myself convinced it was haunted. Instead of giving up, I just advertised for roommates. Cheap rent, low share of utilities.  Aeslin had just moved out on her own, and she and another fellow took the bait.” She shrugged.

“Haunted.” His voice was a mix of curiosity and skepticism; this was at least a more familiar topic. “Was it really?”

“Depends on who you asked. She said it wasn’t, and she had the whole creepy attic to herself. Our other roommate said it was, and he moved out within three months. The cat agreed with him but stuck around because we fed her the good stuff. I never could decide.” She laughed a little and took a sip from her cup. “After we both graduated, I sold the house, and we went our separate ways. I barely thought of her until about ten years ago, when I was recruited by SHIELD. Turns out, she had recommended me. I took the job and never looked back. And here I am.” Her gesture took in everything, and she looked at Loki with a expression halfway between canny and coy. “And here _you_ are. What’s your story? Just a few months, right?”

He nodded. “I don’t think they’re quite sure of me yet,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.

“Everyone goes through that awkward phase,” she replied sagely. “And it’s a tough adjustment, but you’ve got a good mentor. She’ll keep you in line.”

“Yes,” he said, “I’m sure she will.”

Maris chuckled knowingly. “She’s kicked your ass, hasn’t she.”

“You could say that.”

“Good,” she said, reaching across and patting him on the leg. “That means she likes you.” Maris tilted her head. “Is your arm asleep?”

“No,” he lied.

Rolling her eyes, Maris leaned back and bumped Aeslin in the shin with her foot.

“Go away.”

“Come on, G. Wake up. It’s time to go to sleep.”

“So dumb.” Her voice was slightly muffled by Loki’s arm. “That is _so dumb a thing_. I’m already asleep. Or I _was_ , no thanks to you.”

Maris gave Loki a look but kept talking to Aeslin. “You still are, sweetheart. Come on. You’ll get a few hours in an actual bed, with an actual pillow.”

Aeslin waved a hand weakly. “Go without me. I‘ll be fine. Just leave the fish.” She barely resisted when Maris pulled her to her feet, but stood swaying gently, her eyes still nearly closed. Maris tried to drape one of Aeslin’s arms over her shoulders, but she pulled away.

“I can  _do_ it.” Aeslin turned and walked toward the bunk area, almost immediately misjudging a doorway and crashing into the jamb. She recovered quickly.

“All right,” she said, her voice suddenly clearer. “ _Now_ I’m awake.” She smacked Maris’ hand away again, making her way to her bunk. She held her finger on the pad, and Loki had just enough time to shove the bunk door open before she dropped face down to the bed, already asleep again.

“G?” he finally asked.

“Middle name,” Maris said a little breathlessly as she shoved Aeslin further into the bunk and shut the door again. “Stands for Grace.” She gave Loki a grin and blew hair from her face. “And ain’t she _ever_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby pugs are hilariously overactive fuzzy potatoes and i love them SO MUCH.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once a fluke, twice a tradition, and it's hard to see through a table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving the feedback, so here's another short one because I am SHAMELESS. 
> 
> <3

Loki stayed at his bunk. telling Maris that he would catch up. Sliding open the door, he stared at the rumpled blanket for a few moments. Eventually, he picked it up, folding it carefully and tucking it beneath the pillow with a thoughtful look on his face. He reached into the cupboard and retrieved his hygiene kit, then headed aft to get cleaned up.

Feeling slightly more awake afterward, Loki returned to the open area where he found the others setting setting up the game they had played on the flight in.

“Care to join us?” Maris asked. “It’s an in-flight tradition.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I think you just made that up.”

“Not true,” said Westinghouse. “We’ve played it on every flight to or from Iceland we’ve ever been on together.” He arranged tiles on the table. “Let’s see how you do when Dr. Kindle’s not kicking you under the table.”

“She only had to once,” Loki clarified.

Parker looked up from where he was sorting cards. “Twice. She got the wrong leg the second time.”

Loki didn’t know whether to laugh or apologize, so he did a little of both as he sat down. They played for the rest of the flight, and Loki found himself liking the others even more as the game went on. Coulson came down once or twice to check in and refill his coffee, and he seemed unfazed to see Loki gaming with his crew. He merely smiled, made a few suggestions to improve his playing style, and went on his way. The sheer incongruity of the whole thing occasionally gave Loki pause, but he let himself flow with the others and found himself happier than he had been in quite some time.

On Coulson’s last trip down, he informed them it was time to pack up. “Just the game,” he explained. "Everything else will be taken off the plane later, so also maybe any personal gear you’ll need right away.” He beckoned to Loki. “Mr. Laufeyson, may I see you for just a moment?”

Loki followed Coulson up the flight of stairs and into the small office. He offered Loki a seat, which he declined, and sat on the edge of his desk with his arms folded. They regarded each other for a moment, and then Coulson spoke.

“She was right to bring you,” he said. “You’ve done good work, and you seem to get along with the rest of the team. Well done.”

“Thank you,” Loki replied, a little surprised.

“We’re headed back to DC, but I don’t think we’ll be there long. I just wanted to know if you were interested in continuing. We can drop you off if you’re not.”

“I am,” he replied truthfully.

“We may need to pull some strings,” Coulson replied. “But not many. Welcome aboard. Again. And may I remind you to not screw this up.”

Loki shook his head. “The next thing I know, you’ll be apologizing for threatening to kill me.”

A friendly smile. “Let’s not be hasty.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the bookshelf is.

Loki did not see Aeslin again until after the plane had landed. He walked with Maris and the others off the ramp, carrying his bag over one shoulder. The sky was clear and blue, much different than the clouds that had plagued the previous days. As before, one of the black vehicles pulled down the ramp. Westinghouse opened the rear door, dropping in bags and slamming it shut. They climbed in, Coulson in the passenger seat, Loki and Maris in the second, and Parker and Westinghouse in the back. As they left the airport and made their way into the city proper, Coulson turned around to talk to those behind him.

“You won’t be in DC long,” he told them. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to stay at the Triskelion before going back to your original assignments, but I think I’ve got something much better.” He held up a tablet. “Who wants it?”

“Me!” Maris snatched it from him, turning it around in her hands before looking up. “What is it?”

Coulson smiled. “Authorization for lab space in the Warehouse. Don’t say I never give you anything.”

Maris’ jaw dropped. “You’re _kidding._ ”

“Don’t know how.” His face was deadpan.

Parker leaned over the back of the seat, straining for a glimpse at the device. His face was lit by a boyish grin, and he and Westinghouse exchanged congratulatory hand slaps. Loki sat in the middle of the chaos, letting it swirl around him. Once the noise died down, he decided to take the risk.

“Sorry. Where?”

Popping his head between Loki and Maris again, Parker explained gleefully. “ _Only_ the most advanced SHIELD facility around. They’re so ahead of things there it’s practically all still theory. It’s rumored to be years ahead of anything else we’re doing.” He looked forward at Coulson. “Will we get to tour the dark matter labs?”

“We’ll see.”

Another grin. “That’s not a no!” Turning back to Westinghouse, they bumped fists. Loki suddenly understood why humans spent years studying their own kind; frankly, there were times they made no sense. He thought briefly of his brother and father, then, and allowed that perhaps humans weren’t alone in that particular foible.

“We’ll have a few hours in DC to get whatever you need,” Aeslin said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “There is a canteen at the Warehouse, but it’s not great.”

“How long will we be there?” Westinghouse asked. “At the Warehouse, I mean.”

“It’s fairly open-ended at this point,” Coulson replied. “And the location’s pretty remote. You’ll be able to get what you need, but the timing might not be great.”

“You’re probably just saying that,” Parker put in. “You’re actually going to put bags on our heads, drive around in a circle for hours, and then you’ll steal our pants and dump us in the basement of the Smithsonian.”

“That was an isolated incident.” Coulson said firmly. He looked at Aeslin surreptitiously,  but she was studiously ignoring him. She slipped into the lanes of traffic headed for the Potomac, the ghost of a smile on her face hidden from those in the back seat. “You should be fine.”

Parker leaned forward and pulled the tablet from Maris’ protesting fingers. “But what if this is a trap? Is this real? What if it’s a hazing?” He looked between Loki and Maris, and Loki couldn’t tell whether he was indignant or hopeful. “Are we being hazed?”

“Keep it up, and you’ll find out soon enough,” Aeslin replied.

“What does that mean?” the younger man asked Maris, his voice a barely contained whisper.

“It means sit down,” she whispered back loudly.

Parker quickly leaned back into his own seat, and the ride proceeded in silence for only a moment before Loki heard muffled chatter from the back seat. He barely caught when Coulson spoke to Aeslin, sure that it was too quiet for the others to hear.

“Did he ever find those pants?”

“No,” she answered. “No, he didn’t.”

A satisfied chuckle. “That’s my girl.”

***

The rest of the drive passed peacefully, and the time spent preparing at the Triskelion also went rapidly. It seemed only a few minutes later that they regrouped at the now-cleaned and loaded vehicle. Loki took the passenger’s seat gratefully, finally able to stretch his legs. As the others took their seats, Coulson stood at Aeslin’s door, his arms resting casually through the open window.

“Thanks for acting as cat herder,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

She grinned. “No problem. It’s been fun so far. I’ll make sure they get settled in.”

“They’ve got good facilities at the Warehouse,” he said. “Right up your alley. You should check them out.”

“I will,” she promised.

“Stigur’s got your contact information, in case there’s anything new.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Checking to make sure the others were situated, he smiled and pushed her door closed.

“Safe travels,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

***

The trip ended sooner than Loki had expected, given Coulson’s comment that the location was isolated. Aeslin parked at the edge of a fairly busy street, and she led them all into an older building. They took an ancient cage elevator to the fifth floor, following her down a short hallway. Pressing her finger to a button on the doorjamb, she looked into the peephole. A pause, then a dull thunk of machinery, and she pushed the door open.

They entered into a well-lit but underfurnished main room. The place had the feeling of being slightly abandoned, but there were warm touches here and there that made it inviting. Parker looked around appraisingly. “I _knew_ it. A secret above-ground entrance to facilities right beneath our feet.”

“Nice try,” Aeslin said, tossing her SHIELD jacket onto the couch and heading down a hallway.

“Where are we, then?” Westinghouse asked her retreating back. Maris headed for another room, and Loki heard a door open.

Aeslin glanced over her shoulder. “My house. I’ll be right back.”

Parker glanced around the room with a new appreciation and headed straight for the bookshelf, looking at the volumes. Maris returned from what was presumably the kitchen, carrying a small box of different snacks, which she placed on a table near the door. Loki made to sit on the couch, but was arrested mid-step by the drawing framed on the wall above it. Another of her architectural works, but not one that had been in her dissertation. He leaned closer, absorbing the clean but intricate image. He felt more than heard Maris come up next to him.

“Pretty,” she commented as she opened a bag. “I wonder who did it?”

He shrugged to cover the slight smile that came to his face.

“Looks like an original,” she said, turning to sit on the couch. “Must have cost a fortune.”

A few minutes passed, and then there were steps in the hallway. Aeslin came back into the room carrying a duffel bag. She had changed into different clothing and looked much more comfortable outside of the SHIELD garb. Maris inclined her snack bag to her. “It doesn’t expire until tomorrow. Help yourself.”

“I’m good,” she said. “Haven’t been home lately, so I apologize for putting you into such substandard living conditions.”

Maris stood. “I’ll forgive you this once.” A pause. “How long has it been? Those cupboards are _bare_ , girl, even for someone writing a thesis.”

“Six months? More or less. I finished it in New York. Fury decided I was taking too long, so he put his foot down and locked me in the basement up there until it was done.”

Maris tsked. “Stop. He did not.”

A grin. “Did so,” Aeslin replied. “Would I lie to you? And if you’re done cataloging my collection, Parker, we can get on the road.”

The young biologist glanced at her, then back at the shelves. “You can tell a lot about a person by what they read, and I’ve got to say, your collection is out of control,” he said. “I wish I’d seen this sooner. My rotation with you would have been _so_ much easier.”

“I’m not even going to ask how much easier,” she laughed, pulling on her jacket.

He grinned back, gesturing to a few of the books. “Can you even have these two on the same shelf? I’m pretty sure they fight when you’re not looking.”

“They’re not real. Remember? Secret lair. Fake apartment. Fake books. Hell, I don’t even know how to read.” She gave him a gentle shove. “ _Scoot_. We’re running late.”

She opened the front door, and Westinghouse picked up the box on the table and led the way out. As he walked by the shelves, Loki glanced at the books, noticing the fine lines along most of the spines. She had read them - all of them, and frequently, by the look of things. He idly wondered where she had found the time as she shooed him out the door and closed it firmly behind them. There was a sound of multiple steel bolts sliding home as they walked away.

“Where to now?” asked Parker as they got back into the car.

“Where else?” she said. “The Smithsonian.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will visit the basement of the Smithsonian before I die. It might be RIGHT before I die because I will set foot in it and my little heart will explode with joy, but it will happen.
> 
> (And he did, though. Straight up locked her in the basement with a crazy person until she finished her doctorate. Lies are the funniest when they're not actually lies.)


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Subtle salvation in poems and prose/Hiding our heads in some shadow of home  
> And I wasn’t looking for wreaths or for bells/Just someone to listen to stories I tell

Traffic was bad. They had stopped briefly for drinks, and soon after, Loki had found himself lulled to sleep by the noise of the road and the tedium of trying to reach the edge of the city. When he woke a long while later, the sun had already set. Maris was sleeping stretched across the middle seat, and Parker and Westinghouse were in the back, also both asleep. Fairly loud music was playing, and Aeslin was singing along in the darkened, otherwise quiet car.

Groggy, Loki left his eyes closed, listening to her.  He didn’t recognize the song, and it was unlike the ones she had listened to while on Level Four, even when he added in that one unfortunate exception. The sound was much harsher, but he found that he almost liked it better. It seemed a more honest reflection of what she was, though he allowed that he still knew very little of what she actually liked. Her voice was clear, and she sang well.

The song ended, and he opened his eyes, staring out the windshield in front of him. The road was lined with trees and a few lights but seemed deserted. He shifted in his seat, and she glanced at him but said nothing. Another song had begun, and she tapped a button on the steering wheel to turn the volume down. Loki blinked slowly, wanting to go back to sleep but reluctant to actually do so. Instead, he pushed himself straighter in the seat, running his hand across his face. He looked up through his window at the sky, and the sight of the stars beginning to appear in the gathering dark brought on a longing that he had thought almost gone. He cast about for something to say, wanting a sort of comfort, but not wanting to intrude.

“I loved the drawing,” he said finally. The image had stayed with him through his unexpected nap. He looked at her profile. “Maris didn’t know it was yours.”

“I don’t tend to advertise.” She paused, taking a sip from her straw. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“No. I appreciate having information that not everyone else does. Old habit, I suppose. What is it?”

“St. Vitus Cathedral, in Prague. I once stayed there for hours just watching the light on the wall. I couldn’t make myself move; I was so afraid I would miss something. There’s a companion piece to it.”

“I should like to see that, I think.”

“It’s not finished,” she said.

“I meant the cathedral itself, but either one would do.”

“Maybe I’ll take you there sometime,” she replied, “after this is all over. Whatever this is.”

Loki glanced over his shoulder at the others, then turned to look again at the night sky. “Funny,” he began casually, “how we all seemed to get tired at the same time.”

“Is it?” She didn’t look at him.

“And for someone who lies as poorly as you do,” he went on, “your skills at sleight-of-hand really are quite… alarming.”

“I knew I should have doubled your dose.”

“You can trust me.”

She shrugged. “I trust the others, too, but trust and protocol are two different things. It’s a classified location.” She raised her eyebrow as she looked at him. “There are _rules_. I should pull this car over and tranq you right now.”

“Oh, you brought more?”

“No,” she admitted, “but this is a SHIELD vehicle. I’m sure there’s _something_ around here. Maybe a stun gun? Look in the glove box.”

“It’s locked,” he told her without bothering to check. “What a shame.”

“See, that’s what I like about you. You’re so helpful.”

He gave her a stern look. “Steal my pants if you must; leave me stranded in the woods if you have to, but I’m not going to _help_ you incapacitate me. Even I have to draw the line somewhere.”

She smiled a little, but didn’t say anything. The silence was telling.

“I’m curious,” he said.

“Nope. Not even Phil knows where those pants ended up. It’s called plausible deniability, and it’s for your own good.”

Loki shook his head. “I meant about them.” He gestured over his shoulder to the sleeping team of scientists. “They work for SHIELD. They defer to Coulson. And yet, they also defer to you, when you seem on the surface to be equals. Why?”

“Seniority,” she said, shrugging. “I’ve been on SHIELD’s payroll since I was thirteen. I worked in the mail room after school. A few years later, I was made a courier. Phil had taken on a lot of extra duties at that point, so he talked Fury into making me his assistant, mostly to keep me out of trouble, I think. I’ve done a lot of different things since then, through school and promotion, but that’s the one job title that was never removed. So technically, even though I’m on the medical staff, an epi specialist and whatever else they happen to need at the moment-” here she tossed him another look, “my first job is to assist Phil. He’s needed somewhere else at the moment, so here I am. Again.”

A curve in the road, and a pair of bridges. The water beneath gleamed fitfully in the darkness.

“Do you miss it?” she asked suddenly.

He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Yes. Almost every day. There are moments when I stop for too long, and I feel this body crumbling around me. There are days I would give almost anything to feel a taste of what I had, even though I know it would do nothing but make me wish for more. There are times that I crave the oblivion that was my childhood; the years and centuries when I knew nothing of what I was. And then there are days like yesterday, and the day before, when all I wanted was a few hours in the libraries, where things made sense. But do I miss Asgard? Odin? Thor? No. I do not.” He didn’t mention Frigga, knowing that he didn’t have to.

“I wasn’t allowed in the libraries,” she said. “Just the gardens.”

Loki reached over and took her drink, knowing it was probably the only cup in the vehicle that wasn’t drugged. He tried some. Still odd, but it was growing on him.

“I’m not surprised. Odin guards them very jealously,” he said, placing it back in the holder. She glanced at the cup with a slight grin.

“But you’ve been in them, and you love them.”

“I have, and I do. Did.”

She shook her head. “You still do. Tell me about them.”

“What would you like to know?”

A brilliant smile touched her lips, and he was reminded how she had looked on seeing Asgard for the first time. “Everything.”

“Exactly _how_ long are we going to be in this car?”

“Maybe not everything, then,” she amended. “Just your favorite parts.”

He laughed. “Everything.”

“Surely there’s something that you liked better than anything else. I mean, I’m the same way, but there are parts of a library you’re more likely to find me in than others. Come on.”

“A model.” Loki said, not even having to think about it. He glanced over at her. “And I know what you’re imagining, but go larger. _Much_ larger.”

“Of what?”

“The Realms. The World Tree. All of it. It’s massive. Intricate. An absolute marvel, and I don’t use that word lightly. A work of surpassing skill and beauty greater than anything I’ve ever seen, and Odin’s got it hidden so deep in those libraries that most of the Keepers have no idea it’s there.”

“How can a librarian not know what’s in their own library?”

“Because it _isn’t_ theirs. It’s Odin’s. They only know their part. Only what’s necessary.” He stopped for a second. “Now that I think about it, the libraries are a bit like SHIELD seems to be. Secrets on top of secrets, and only the one-eyed madman gets to know them all.”

She had taken a drink at just the wrong time; what came out next was something between a laugh and a cough. “Ow,” she said. “You did that on purpose.”

“Probably,” he allowed, shifting to a more comfortable position. “In any case, I discovered it when I was little more than a boy. I was absolutely fascinated by it and explored for hours on end. I had no idea I wasn’t supposed to.” Loki found himself smiling at the memory. “I found a spot just behind and a little to the left of Alfheim. It fit three things: a pillow, a blanket, and me, with just enough room left over for a book or two.”

“Perfection,” she said.

“Absolute. I was there every night, reading everything I could get my hands on. One Keeper, Elin, always made sure there was something set aside for me.” A small grin. “That woman. She was ancient, mostly blind, and she had outlived five husbands and three sons. She knew exactly the books I needed before I even knew they existed.”

“Sounds like you liked her.”

A real laugh this time. “Not even close. I _worshiped_ her. I gave her flowers, and in return, she gave me a world. I came to her every day for over two years, and she never failed me once. Then one day, I came to the libraries, and she asked me to bring her back a prize. I had no idea what she meant, but later that night, a message came from the Gatekeeper. Vanaheim had been invaded, and Odin decided it was time for both Thor and I to be blooded. I was gone for months. After I finally returned, she had a pile of books almost as tall as she was, just waiting for me, but when I went back to my hiding place, I found I didn’t fit anymore.”

“You grew.”

“It _moved_. I realized then that I wasn’t hiding in a sculpture. I was hiding in a working model of the universe, one that mirrored every move of the cosmos in real time. I ran back to tell her, and she laughed until she cried. She had thought the whole time that I knew what it was. I asked her how it worked, and she told me to find out and tell her. It took decades, but I was finally able to. She died soon after.” He looked out the window. “I used to wish that I had taken more time to learn. Perhaps she would have stayed a little longer.”

“What was her prize?” Aeslin glanced over. “The one you brought her from the campaign.”

“Stories,” he replied simply. “She hadn’t gone to war in centuries, and she missed it. I was more than happy to oblige, even though she made it clear that my skill lay in reading tales, not telling them.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

He picked up her drink again. “Oh, I got better,” he said with a grin. “ _Much_ better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyric from _Stories I Tell_ by Toad the Wet Sprocket, which if you've never heard, I demand you go find it and listen to it immediately. 
> 
> Author's note: I wasn't going to post twice today, but this weekend is shaping up to be a monster, and I really love this section and wanted to share it. (So feedback is appreciated.) 
> 
> I thought about this time that although we’ve learned quite a bit about her, Loki’s been kind of cagey, which makes sense since the story’s largely from his point of view, and that’s also his style. It was time to hear something more from him. I think his guard’s down a little in this part because a) he’s lonely, b) they’re in the middle of nowhere and he’s bored, and/or c) he’s still kind of loopy from the drugs.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the little things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just realized that I'm going on vacation this week and will have only spotty access to a laptop (it's difficult to post from my phone). Sorry not sorry, but I'll do my best! Feedback appreciated, as always. :D

The others came to a couple of hours later. Maris was the first to put the pieces together, and she made a face at Aeslin as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

“Brat,” she said. “You might have warned us.” She looked out the windows at the thick forest around them. “Where are we?”

Aeslin glanced at the other woman in the rearview mirror and rolled her eyes. “Really, Maris?”

Maris made a face back as Parker took stock.

“Still wearing pants,” he said, almost to himself. “That’s a good sign. I think that’s a good sign.”

“Are we almost there?” Maris asked. “I’m starving, and for  _some_ reason, I suddenly don’t want anything in this car.”

Taking a noisy sip from her own almost-empty drink, Aeslin grinned back at her. “Five minutes,” she told her, turning the wheel and taking them onto a side road. Through the trees, Loki saw a flicker of moonlight on glass. A glimpse of a sprawling building with a carefully manicured landscape, and then they entered a tunnel that wound downward. Eventually, he saw other vehicles parked along the sides, and then she pulled into a space and shut off the engine.

Maris got out the car, standing on wobbly legs. “Okay,” she finally admitted. “The timing is impressive.”

Parker stumbled from the backseat, rubbing his face. “What _was_ that?”

“Classified” was all Aeslin said, as she handed him his bag.

He took it, shaking his head. “We’re lucky you only use your powers for good.”

“Just keep thinking that,” muttered Westinghouse as he walked by. He took his bag from Aeslin, slightly unsteady on his feet.

She pulled her own bag out, shut the rear of the vehicle and led them all to a bank of elevators. “Welcome to the Warehouse,” she said as the doors opened. “I’ll get you all into rooms. The side effects are going to hang around for a few more hours, so you’ll probably just want to sleep it off. Anything you didn’t bring from the plane should already be here, or it will be by morning. I’ll be by tomorrow to give you the grand tour and show you the workspaces. I think you’ll love them.”

The doors opened, and she led them down a hall. Moonlight shone through the skylights in the ceiling, throwing patches of silver and grey onto the smooth floor. Aeslin pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket and pointed out doors as she walked.

“Westinghouse,” she said, and then at the next one, “Parker.” Another few steps, and a door on the other side of the hallway. “Lindsay, Laufeyson.” Two doors beyond Loki’s. “Mine. Good?”

“Good,” Westinghouse said, walking unsteadily to his doorway and disappearing inside. Maris looked Loki up and down.

“Neighbors,” she said with a slight smile. “I’ll have to remember that.” She walked into her room, closing the door behind her. Parker saluted and headed to his own room.

Aeslin regarded Loki in the dim glow of the skylights. “I’m glad you woke early,” she said at last. “I appreciated the company.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Next time I’ll get the dosage right.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

He hefted his bag on his shoulder, and the metal band on his wrist caught the half-light. His face must have shown something, because she looked at him with brows lowered a little.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

She waited in silence, arms folded.

“I just wonder when I’ll be free of shackles. It’s been so long, I fear I’m getting used to them.”

“Whenever you want,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes, then dropped his bag to the floor with a muffled thump. She stepped forward, her hands cool on his skin as she unlocked the band and slipped it from his wrist. She held it up, and Loki took it, rolling it in his fingers.

“As easy as that,” he said.

“Easier,” she replied. “You could have done it yourself.”

“I didn’t think it worked like that.”

“It does when it’s not active.”

He stared at her, feeling a muscle in his jaw begin to twitch.

“I said I’d make you wear yours,” she said into the vast silence, “ but I _never_ said I’d turn mine on. You said I could trust you, so I did.” She gave him a slight smile as she took a step back toward her door. “See you in the morning.”

***

Loki had been awake for some time before he heard voices near his door the next morning. He opened it to see Parker and Aeslin standing near the doorway; Westinghouse was back against the opposite wall. The physicist looked at him suspiciously. Parker gestured to Loki theatrically, obviously continuing a previous conversation.

“See?” he said. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Westinghouse gave Parker a look. “You weren’t there. I could have died.”

“Doubtful,” Loki replied, taking the lidded cup and paper-wrapped bundle Parker offered him. “Genetics, remember?”

“Right.”

Aeslin walked between Loki and Westinghouse to pound loudly on Maris’ door. A few moments later, the woman opened it, fully dressed but clearly still groggy. She took one look at the cup Aeslin offered her and shook her head.

“Oh, _hell_ no,” she said. “I am not coming _close_ to anything you’ve touched. Not after yesterday.” She put a hand to her head. “Was that really only yesterday?”

“House blend,” Aeslin crooned, gently waving the cup under Maris’ nose. “Skinny. Hazelnut and vanilla.” Her voice took on a sing-song tone.  “Parker’s got baked goods.”

Maris wavered for the briefest of moments, then snatched the cup from her hand. “I hate you.”

Aeslin patted her cheek. “I know.” She looked over her shoulder, and her voice became more businesslike. “Parker. Scone.”

The biologist popped up, napkin at the ready, and handed Maris her pastry. She looked down. “Cranberry. Lemon zest. Damn you, Kindle.”

“And people never believed me when I told them why you didn’t teach classes before noon. Ready?”

“I guess,” Maris said. Turning, she walked down the hallway toward the elevators.

“Is that the way to the labs?” Parker asked.

“No,” Aeslin replied simply. She tucked her hands into her pockets, watching Maris weave gently down the corridor.

“Someone should probably tell her.”

A shrug. “In a minute.”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (A week or two after arriving at the Warehouse.)
> 
> In which Coulson has (possibly misplaced) faith in Aeslin, and Maris fails the Bechdel test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heading out for the road, so here's a quick one. Thanks for the kudos and feedback! Keep 'em coming! <3

One semester. One class, one semester. An elective course meant to alleviate the tedium of endless lectures on germs, vectors, population health and the occasional virus-of-the-week conspiracy theory.

One stupid botany class almost fifteen years ago, and Phil (dear, sweet Phil) believed it made her an expert. She sat at the workstation in the center of her lab, scribbling notes onto the table that would then be transcribed into a readable file. Head propped up on one hand, she tapped the light pen against her bottom lip as she cross checked her data, so engrossed in her work that she barely registered the door to her lab opening.

Maris thumped her coffee cup onto the edge of the workstation, and Aeslin glanced at it without raising her head. “Can I help you?”

“Rule 26,” Maris replied.

Aeslin’s eyebrows lowered as she thought for a second. “Grapes don’t belong in chicken salad?”

“No. Wait. Rule 33.”

“Stretching out my favorite t-shirt doesn’t make it yours?” Aeslin looked up, now truly confused.

“Rule 18?”

“Beer is not a food group.”

“ _No._ Dammit.” Maris pulled another lab chair from the corner and sat down, all business. “Okay. Forget the rules. I need to ask you something.”

Aeslin made another annotation. “We _can’t_ forget the rules, Maris. Our relationship would never have survived this long without them.”

“Just for a second. This is important.”

“Fine. Just for a second.”

“So, Loki. You two seem to get along pretty well.”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Huh.” Maris toyed with the lid of her cup. Her voice was light and curious. “Slept with him yet?”

And there it was. The question she knew had been coming since the moment she had set foot on the Bus with Loki in tow, since the moment Maris had spotted him, and since the moment Aeslin had spit out the first introduction that had come to mind when she had realized that there was no good reason for a highly classified, recently-mortalized and only partially repentant god of mischief to be on the plane in the first place. Aeslin found she was only surprised it had taken so long.

“No, Maris. I haven’t.” She continued writing.

“Plan to?”

Aeslin looked up again. “ _No_ , Maris,” she repeated with exaggerated patience. “I do not _plan_ to. He is my intern. I don’t sleep with my interns. I never have, and I’m certainly not going to start now.”

Maris smacked a hand triumphantly on the table. “Rule 23,” she crowed, pointing a finger at Aeslin. “I remember! Rule 23: Professional courtesy is a thing.” She paused for a second, then cleared her throat. “Can I?”

“Why are you asking _me_?”

“Rule 37,” Maris responded. “Don’t be that girl.”

Aeslin shook her head. “For once,” she said, “you’re not. It’s not up to me, Maris. He doesn’t need my permission, and neither do you. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. He makes his own decisions. Don’t drag me into this.”

Maris gave her a bit of a grin and picked up her cup. “Will do.” She headed toward the door, pushing her chair back into the corner as she did so.

“Maris.” She spoke almost without thinking. The other woman turned expectantly. “He’s my intern,” Aeslin said. “He’s also my friend. I want him to be happy, so I’m throwing in a new rule.”

“Which is?”

“Rule 64. Don’t be an idiot.”

Maris gave a knowing chuckle. “Surprised that wasn’t one already.”

“It was,” Aeslin said with a dismissive wave. “It just didn’t have a number yet.”

The other woman took the hint, saluted with her cup and strolled out the door, sauntering in a way that Aeslin had never mastered and doubted she ever would.

With a mental shake, Aeslin dropped her head back to her station, pulled up yet another article on _Lupinus nootkatensis_ and went back to work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bumped the rating to T, but don't get too excited. Mostly due to references to what TV Guide refers to as "adult situations."  
> You know, like paying bills and stuff.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Westinghouse meets his man crush, Loki avoids homework and there's a reason why not one of Kindle's degrees is in marketing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best. <3 Srsly.

Over the next weeks, Loki and the others adapted to life in the Warehouse. Each morning, they met for breakfast, planning and comparing notes from the day before. Ready for another morning meeting, Loki arrived in the cafeteria. Most of the others were already there, and he sat across from Parker. Aeslin dropped into the chair next to the biologist, and he nodded to her. Maris was already sitting at the table; Loki had learned early on that it was wise not to bother her until after breakfast and coffee.

Westinghouse sat next to him, animatedly discussing their latest finds with Parker. When another scientist walked behind Parker to find a seat, Westinghouse froze. He followed the newcomer with his eyes, watching like a hawk until the other man sat down a few tables away.

“Wow.” His voice was reverent.

Aeslin blinked. “You okay?”

He leaned forward excitedly, his voice an intense whisper. “Don’t you know who that is?”

“Who?” she asked, automatically turning to look over her shoulder.

“Don’t turn around!” the physicist hissed desperately. “What are you _doing?_ ”

She kept her head still. “You mean besides having flashbacks to middle school?”

“Plaid shirt. Three tables away.” His voice was tight.

“Dr. Selvig? Please tell me he’s wearing pants today.”

“Selvig!”

“Selvig?” Parker tried to look without moving his head. “ _The_ Selvig?”

“I had no idea he was here,” Westinghouse whispered. “I wonder what he’s working on for _where the hell is she going someone stop her._ ”

Loki tore his gaze from Westinghouse, at whom he had been staring in sort of morbid fascination, to see that Aeslin had left her breakfast and gone to the other table. She chatted with the older man for a few moments, and then they both returned. Westinghouse frantically straightened his tie as he surged to his feet. Parker was close behind him.

“Dr. Selvig,” he said, holding out a hand. “Scott Westinghouse. Engineering physics. This is Joshua Parker, exobiology. It is a true honor, sir.”

Selvig shook his hand firmly. “Thank you. Dr. Kindle tells me that you’ve an interest in the dark matter labs.”

“Who doesn’t?” replied Westinghouse. “I hear there have been amazing things going on down there.”

“Only sometimes,” Selvig said with a smile. “Like most science, it has its moments of supreme beauty, followed by weeks of spectacular failure intermixed with a heavy dose of soul-sucking boredom. But that’s the nature of the beast.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it, sir.”

“Come down for a while,” said Selvig. “And I’ll prove it.”

“Yes, sir. _Thank_ you, sir. We will.”

Selvig looked at Loki. “And you are?”

“Where are my manners?” Westinghouse said. “This is Mr. Laufeyson. He’s our intern.”

Loki nodded, but did not stand. Selvig was studying him a little, and Loki didn’t much care for the scrutiny. He finally offered his hand, more to speed Selvig on his way than any sort of politeness.

“Do I know you?” the other man finally said, shaking it only briefly.

“No,” Loki replied, confused. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

A faint smile. “You must have one of those faces.” He seemed to think a moment longer, and then it was gone. “No matter.” He nodded to the others and bid them good morning before returning to his table, retrieving his coffee and going back to work.

Midway through the walk to the lab, a familiar beep came from Aeslin’s pocket. She retrieved her earpiece, waving the others on. As he had agreed to during the meeting, Loki accompanied Parker to the biology lab. He had grown used to rotating through the labs and helping the others at times; Parker had taken to calling the process Rent-an-Intern, which Loki wasn’t sure he was happy with or not. He much preferred the days that he worked with Aeslin, often for no other reason than he didn’t have to remember what she knew about him and what she didn’t. Deception, though useful, could also be extremely tedious. He considered the alternative as he swiped his badge to let himself into the lab, deciding that, in the end, ‘rent-ern’ was better than prisoner.

Loki didn’t mind working with Parker at all; they got along quite well. The young man was able to talk intelligently about almost anything, somehow without sounding condescending. Loki’s seeming naivete didn’t seem to bother him; if anything, he found it a source of humor.

They had only been a work for a few moments when there was a knock on the glass. Aeslin walked by, gesturing for them to follow her to the other lab.

“Good news,” she said as they entered. “Coulson’s finally caught up. He’ll be incoming by the end of the week.”

Westinghouse looked up from his display. “How is that good news? We’ve got nothing for him.”

“Sure you do. You’ve got tons of data. I’ve seen it.”

“It’s just that, though,” Parker said. “Data. We can’t really quantify any of it. I mean, what are we supposed to tell him?”

“What you’re doing. What you’re learning. What you know. What you don’t know. Basically what you’ve been telling me all along.”

“It’s different telling you,” Parker said.

“How so?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“What Parker’s saying,” Westinghouse put in, “is that Coulson intimidates the hell out of us. And you don’t.”

“Why?”

Maris leaned back against her display. “His socks match, for starters.”

“My socks match.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“ _How_ sure?”

Aeslin shrugged. “Eighty percent.” She stopped for a second. “Maybe seventy.”

“I rest my case.”

“It’s not like anyone _sees_ them.”

Loki folded his arms. “I’ve seen them.”

“And?” Maris looked at him intently.

“Well, not these. Others. But those didn’t match, either.”

Maris shot Aeslin a triumphant look, and Aeslin looked at Loki, a hand on her heart. “ _Et tu_ , intern?”

“Sorry.” He shrugged in mock sympathy.

“I would _also_ wager,” Maris went on, “that he’s never worn a dinosaur t-shirt while presenting at a major medical conference _or_ been to Comic Con.”

“And you’d only win one of those bets,” Aeslin replied, perching on one of the tall lab chairs. “I’ll even let you guess which one.”

Parker looked startled. “No _way_.”

“San Diego. He wanted to complete his set.” She pulled one leg beneath her, the other foot swinging several inches from the floor. “And maybe you can’t quantify any of your results, but you can talk about them. You’ve created a whole database of elements and compounds that don’t exist on this planet. I mean, you’re basically expanding the periodic table as we speak. Hydrogen. Oxygen. Argon. Parkeronium.”

“That sounds like off-brand pasta.”

“A little, but that’s why _I_ won’t be naming it. You will.” She twirled her chair slightly, and Loki was vividly reminded of his days under her watch. “Look. You’ve been staring at this stuff for three weeks straight. Maybe it’s time to take a day off. Walk away. Blow off steam. Work on something else for a while.”

“Such as?” Parker seemed unconvinced.

“All sorts of things. You all have hobbies. Interests. Side projects. For example, Mr. Laufeyson owes me an assignment that he was given _quite_ some time ago, as I recall.”

“And as _I_ recall,” replied Loki, “we were still negotiating that assignment.”

“That was before you tattled.” She grinned. “Besides, negotiating an assignment means that you actually negotiate. Not just ignore it and hope it goes away. _That’s_ called avoidant behavior.”

Loki looked past her spinning chair to where Parker stood. “Was she like this on your rotation?”

“Worse.”

“However did you manage?”

“Red Vines,” said Parker. “ _Buckets_ of them.”

Westinghouse drained the last of his coffee and tossed the cup loudly into the bin. “Don’t mean to interrupt,” he said, “by which I mean I do, but can we please get to work? We seem to have been given a deadline.”

“Good idea,” Aeslin said. “You have fun with that. I’ll be in my lab if anyone needs me.”


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a point is made.

The next morning, as normal, Loki went down for the morning meeting. Aeslin was already there when Loki entered; the others had not yet arrived. A half-full cup sat near her elbow, largely ignored. She was curled into the chair in a pose Loki knew well; one booted leg tucked beneath her, with the other drawn up. A sketchpad was braced just above her bent knee. She was working methodically, her movements quick and sure. He glanced over her shoulder at the drawing. A building in ruins. 

“A little different than the others,” he said, stirring his tea. “Where is it?”

“Glastonbury.” She tucked her pencil next to three others already in the knot of hair at the nape of her neck, exchanging it for what seemed to be an identical one. Even after weeks of watching while she finished her dissertation, Loki still didn’t know how she could tell the difference between them without looking. 

“Glastonbury.” He repeated the word; it had a strange familiarity.

“Glestingaburg. Ynys Wydryn.”

He nodded, recognizing the last name. “The Glass Isle. A portal, and quite a powerful one. It hasn’t been used in centuries.”

“Why not?”

He sat across from her. “Odin sealed them all after Laufey’s incursion into your world.” 

Aeslin raised an eyebrow but continued sketching. “All of them. Really.” She switched pencils again. “I did read your file, you know.”

“That wasn’t a portal.”

“What was it?”

“There are more ways between the Realms than even Odin knows,” he said. “Some are little more than cracks, or a mere thinning of reality. Most are quite unstable, but really, they don’t need to last long.”

“Just long enough to make a point.”

His lip twitched into a gentle smirk as he finished his tea. “Exactly.” He looked at the picture again. “But the Isle was stable, and very well-used at one time. Have you been there?”

A shrug. “Just once, as a tourist.”

“It appears to have made an impression on you.”

“I guess,” she admitted. Another exchange of pencils. 

“Are you all right?”

“Just restless,” she said. “Happens about this time every year. It’s nothing to worry about.” A sudden look toward the doorway, and she closed the sketchbook and tucked it into her jacket in a single, practiced movement. Her boots thumped to the floor as the other three approached the table. 

The meeting was short. Loki and the others stood to go to the lab, and he looked down at Aeslin.

“I’ll catch up,” she said, leaning back in her chair and reaching for her cup. “I’m just going to send today’s message.”

Loki followed the others out of the room and up the elevators to the lab, unable to shake a nagging feeling that something was off. They neared the first lab, and Loki noticed that it was darker than normal. Westinghouse froze midway through retrieving his badge, staring at the cheerfully decorated sign that been carefully attached to the glass. 

_ Closed. Will reopen 0900 tomorrow. Go play.  _

Westinghouse snatched the paper from the door, looking as though it would bite him. Parker and Maris scanned their badges with no effect, and Loki did the same, knowing full well it was pointless. She had warned them, after all. They just hadn’t been paying enough attention.

“She locked us out.” The engineer stared at the paper in his hand. “She locked us  _ out _ .” He looked around at the others. “Is she even allowed to do that?”

“There’s a much more important question you’re missing,” said Parker, pulling the sign from his unresisting hand. “Is this in crayon? How did she find crayons?”

“She locked us out.”

“Because she’s a  _ magical unicorn _ , that’s how. I can’t even get a pen without filling out three different forms that don’t actually exist, and she’s been hiding a 64-pack. It’s ridiculous.  _ She’s _ ridiculous.”

“And she’s so subtle,” chimed in Maris, taking the sign and reading it. 

“What now?” Westinghouse’s voice was plaintive.

Maris shrugged and handed the paper to Loki. “We take a break. Arguing with her isn’t going to help one bit. I know how she is.” She took the engineer’s arm in hers, steering the shocked man gently from the lab door. “When was the last time you called your wife?”

Loki and Parker watched them go. “I know that look,” said Parker. “I had it enough on my rotation. Maris is right. It’s pointless to argue. You should know that by now.”

_ Probably better than you do, _ Loki thought. Instead, he crumpled the sign in his hand. “Oh,” he said, “I don’t argue.” He shoved the paper into his pocket and gave Parker a grin. “I negotiate.”


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short interlude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I would put up two since they're both pretty short. <3 you guys!

Negotiations broke down before they even started, mostly because any sort of bargaining requires at least two people. Loki returned to the cafeteria, but she was no longer there. He smiled a little as he headed back to the area with the living quarters. He wouldn’t have stayed, either. She had delivered her message; there was no reason to linger, and at least three compelling ones  _ not  _ to. He decided to go for a walk on the grounds; the morning would be chilly, but the colors were something to behold. He had not seen their like in quite some time. He returned to his rooms, pulling a hooded jacket from his closet; his cold weather gear had followed him from Iceland. Coulson had made sure of that. He passed Parker on the way out; the young man was clearly going for a run. They had already had several discussions as to whether or not Parker was running  _ from _ anything. Parker claimed he wasn’t; Loki remained unconvinced. No one ran without a good reason.

He wandered for quite some time in the cool morning, working his way from one edge of the compound to the other and back again. Near the southeastern corner, there was a garden of sorts; in the middle lay a stone labyrinth path. He had stumbled upon it early one morning, and while he occasionally saw others walking the path, heads down, he generally avoided the area entirely. It reminded him too much of Frigga’s gardens and of the Bridge’s pattern, likely burned for all eternity into the cold metal of the landing pad in New York. 

He scuffed through the leaves at the edge of the sidewalk, thinking how strange his life had become. Unexpected, to say the least, but not, at the last, unpleasantly so. It was odd to be out of his brother’s shadow at last, and to be accepted for who he was, and not as a second choice. Equally as odd to be embraced with open arms, occasionally very literally when Parker got overexcited. The ache for what he had been was still there, the voice still as needling as ever, but it grew less every day. He felt somehow that is absence should have bothered him more than it did.

A couple of hours had passed by the time he worked his way back inside, his mood much better. The hallways near the living quarters were quiet, as usual; Aeslin had told him that the Warehouse was understaffed at best during this time of year, which was one reason Coulson had been able to get them space so rapidly. Loki poked his head into the lounge near the end of the hallway; it was almost empty, and he didn’t recognize anyone inside.  He headed down the hallway, passing through the main lobby on the way. A single security guard sat at the desk; an older gentleman, brusque but friendly. On an impulse, Loki slowed his steps. 

“Looking for something, son?”

“Someone, actually,” Loki replied. “Doctor Kindle. I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”

A few rapid keystrokes. “Kindle. Like a fire, right?”

“Yes. That’s the one.”

“Lemme see what I can do.” A few more taps, and then the man looked up. “I’ve got a card swipe on Two East about an hour ago. No activity since then. Doesn’t mean she’s still there, but that’s the best I’ve got for you.” 

“Two East?”

“Workout rooms,” the man replied. “That whole floor’s full of ‘em. Not that they get used much by these eggheads. Don’t even know why we have ‘em. Take the elevators down two levels, then the tunnel to your left. Can’t miss it.” 

Loki smiled. “Thanks.”

He could barely hide the grin on his face as the elevator doors closed. It was perfect, really. Let Parker run all he wanted. Loki had just been presented with a much better way to burn off steam - the easiest and most time-honored way there was.

Forget negotiations. It was time to skip straight to the fight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess the cameo!


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which negotiations begin, or: Thor's not the only one who knows how to pick a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated. This (and the next few chapters) took me 4+EVER to write, and I'm curious how they worked out. :)

Loki could hear the music the second he emerged at the other end of the tunnel. This hallway seemed deserted, as well, and the sound echoed through the space. The song wasn’t familiar, but it was close enough to what had been playing in the car that he knew he was in the right place. He followed the music toward an open doorway near the other end of the corridor.

As he drew closer, beneath the music’s beat, he began to hear a semi-rhythmic thudding. Reaching the doorway, he peeked into the well-lit room. A bag hung from the ceiling, and she was sparring with it. Loki had used one in the New York facilities during his endless down times, and he knew it probably weighed almost as much as she did. Kicks, punches and jabs sent it flying in unpredictable patterns, and she dodged and spun. Loki realized that Maris had been wrong. Or right, if one dismissed the sarcasm. Her name did fit, and it fit well.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him softly. He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded. She noticed him almost immediately and gave a slight wave. As the bag swung back toward her, she stopped it with both hands, then walked toward a panel on the wall. A few touches, and the wall opened; the bag slid on hidden rails to disappear into a recessed area, and the music stopped at nearly the same time.

Loki spoke into the silence that followed.

“As I recall, whether or not I had to do that... assignment was still to be determined.”

“It’s not that difficult. It’s 400 words. That will take you, what, five minutes?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Of course it’s the point. You’re merely accepting the natural consequences of your actions. I mean, surely you’ve learned that lesson by now.”

“I’ve learned _a_ lesson,” he clarified.

She folded her arms, wrapped hands peeking out from beneath her hoodie. “Which is?”

“Your consequences lack imagination. Granted, the bar has been set rather high, but I had _such_ hopes for you.”

“I had other things on my mind at the time.”

“And now I’ve learned that you’re even worse at excuses.”

“You’re pretty lippy for an intern.”

He shrugged. “So punish me.”

A subtle tightening in her lips; he thought she might be stifling a laugh. Instead, she regarded him with a measured look as she began unwinding the fabric from her wrist and hand, the movement so familiar to her she didn’t even have to look down.

“You know,” she said, “I could say those same three words, with the very same inflection, and somehow, yours would still sound so much... worse.”

“It’s all in the delivery,” he replied. “That’s one of the first things royalty learns. It doesn’t matter what you say. It’s _how_ you say it.”

“Uh huh.” She tossed the wrapping into a bag on the floor and began working on the other hand.

“And practice does make perfect,” he continued easily. “It’s not the first time I’ve said those words, if that makes you feel better.”

She winced a bit as she finished the second wrap. “As a matter of fact, it doesn’t. Not in the least.” She paused as she tossed the fabric down. “And this is one conversation that I never saw myself having. Certainly not here. And certainly not with you.”

“You have a peculiar life, Kindlesdaughter.” He shook his head a little dramatically, enjoying her discomfort. “You of all people should learn to expect this sort of thing. Or, you could just consider it a little bit of payback.”

“We’re keeping score? Since when?”

“A while ago. And you’re stalling. ”

“Am not,” she said.

He smothered a smile as he straightened, a bit of his old self surfacing for the first time in a long while. He stalked toward her with an air of careful indifference and crossed the distance to her with deliberate, easy strides.

“We don’t have to,” he said smoothly, “not if you don’t really want to. There’s no shame in backing out.” He walked closer, so near that she was forced to tilt her head back to see his face.

“I don’t back out of anything,” she said, taking a small step backward, then another.

“Nothing.” He took a matching step forward. She continued to casually keep space between them.

“Some things,” she admitted, giving ground slowly. “Parking spaces. Driveways. Holiday parties. Awkward lunch dates.”

“No one would blame you,” he said. “I mean, look at you. A mere mortal - raw, untested and faced with an opponent like me. One born of giants. Trained by the finest teachers in the nine Realms over long centuries.” Her back thumped against the wall, and he let himself tower over her for just a moment. “Not to mention taller.”

“If living with Maris’ cat taught me nothing else,” she observed, “it’s that none of that matters in the end.”

“And what does matter?” he asked, a little sarcasm coloring his tone. “Honor? Spirit? Heart?”

“ _Clearly_ you’ve never had a cat. It’s all angle and velocity, my friend,” she answered, punctuating each word with poke in his chest. “Angle. And. Velocity.”

Loki narrowed his eyes a little, and in that split second, he had already lost. He felt a painless jerk, and then the room spiraled around him. He landed hard on his shoulder, staring once again at a gently spinning ceiling.

“That’s the second time you’ve fallen for that,” came her voice from somewhere above him. She tsked lightly.

“That,” he said to the lights above him, “is a nasty trick.” Turning his head to one side, he glared at her. She sat on her heels next to him, arms on her knees, and leaned forward.

“If you plan to be the one to walk away,” she replied kindly, “ain’t no such thing.”

“Did Maris’ cat teach you that, too?”

“Nope,” she said with a grin. “That was Phil.” Smacking him gently on the stomach, she stood. “Come on. Get up. Let’s do this right.”

He lay on the floor a moment longer, then got to his feet and took off his socks and shoes, dropping them next to her bag. She shrugged off her sweatshirt; beneath she wore a fitted tank top. She walked past him toward the center of the room, and as she did so, he noticed dark, intricate lines spiraling from the under the fabric along the pale skin of her back. He stared, momentarily flustered, much as he had been the day he had first seen her vicious scars. At the same time, somehow it was also very different.

“You really _do_ have one,” he said, instantly cursing his mouth for speaking out of turn again.

She threw up her hands. “Why does no one believe me?” She shook her fists skyward in mock frustration. “Why?!”

“I have no idea,” he said truthfully. He inwardly shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked toward her, stopping just out of reach. “Rules?”

She shifted her weight a little. “Just a friendly sparring match,” she said. “Rule one. No weapons.” She held up a second finger. “Rule two. No name calling. Rule three. We both walk out of here alive.”

“Anything else?” He circled slowly to his left.

She mirrored his movements. “No setting the board on fire.”

In an instant, he was back in his cell, watching her across the Goblin’s Teeth board. He felt the same wolfish smile touch his lips, and she gave him an answering grin. He felt his muscles coiling lightly as his instincts came to the fore.

“Come on, then.”  



	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession of sorts, and an answer Loki almost forgot he wanted.

After centuries of training under Odin’s best, Loki had learned early on how to quickly read an opponent. Aeslin was no different, on the surface, and over the next several minutes, he put together a basic picture of how she fought. She had been trained well, probably by multiple people. He had never seen Coulson fight, but he knew the agent’s tactics were woven throughout hers. Her technique, while not flawless, was effective and leaned more toward defense. But oddly, there were moments when she had a strange clumsiness to her. It reminded Loki of watching newly-whelped hounds in Odin’s kennels. And there was one more thing.

A feint, and then another. She was fast; he could give her that, but his training had been thorough and vicious. Loki dodged, catching her arm as he went by and using the leverage to throw her none-too-gently to the ground. He leaned down slightly.

“Stop holding back.”

“Who says I’m holding back?”

He blocked the next punch that came, feeling how it slowed in the fraction of a second before she made contact.

“I do,” he said.

A slight grin as she slipped out of reach. “Maybe I have to. You’re human now, remember?”

“Mortal,” he clarified as he slapped her hand away. “A broken god trapped in a body no longer my own. I am not made of glass, and I am most definitely _not_ human.”

A curious look crossed her face, and she was distracted for a split second. Seeing an opportunity, Loki acted. She saw the movement; a slight smile touched her lips, and unlike the other times she had thrown him, he saw this one coming. As it turned out, seeing it happen made no difference. The result was the same. She slipped beneath his defenses like a wraith, faster than before, and threw them both to the floor with her arm across his throat. “Funny,” she said, her lips close to his ear. “That makes two of us.”

A gentle pressure as she pushed herself off his chest, and Loki scrambled to his feet. She regarded him from a few feet away. He stared at her.

“35 weeks,” he shook his head, confused. “46 chromosomes. You promised.”

Her voice was quiet. “That was before.”

_\- The hallway. She hands him his book with a smile, and then she turns and walks away. Wings on her sweatshirt and a world on her shoulders, and she will not tell him why. -_

“Bifrost.”

Aeslin nodded. “It didn’t fix me, Loki. I think, in the end, it didn’t really know how. So it changed me instead.”

“Into what?”

“You said it yourself. It had to work with what it knew, and lucky for it, there was a prime example right there beside me.”

Loki closed his eyes. “No. No, no and no.”

“Yep,” she replied with a grin. “It tried to make me your brother.”

He swallowed past a faint taste of bile. “Can you… would you, just possibly, find a way to never, _never_ say that again?”

A laugh. “ _Now_ who’s uncomfortable? And I said it _tried_. I didn’t say it succeeded. I think it got about halfway and then gave up, to be perfectly honest. From what we can tell, it seems to have given me the normal upgrades. Strength, agility, speed, stamina, durability.” She shrugged. “Not everything changed, though. I still can’t hold my liquor.”

He blinked at her, and she went on. “I thought maybe that would be different, too, but I never really put it to the test until a couple of nights ago. I talked Parker into a drinking game, which didn’t take as much effort as I thought it would, and he won in less than half a hard lemonade and twenty minutes of _Mystery Science Theater_. I mean, it’s good to know that some things stayed the same, right? It’s encouraging. It means I’m not a complete train wreck. Except I’m talking too much, and I need to shut up, and this isn’t really going how I thought it would, and hell’s _bells,_ will you please stop looking at me like that and _say_ something.”

“ _T_ _hat’s_ what you wouldn’t tell me? That you’d become something more?”

Her face blanched a little. “Yes.”

“Whyever not? Let’s be honest; it’s not exactly uncommon around here.”

“It happens to fewer than you’d think,” she replied. “But besides that... It changes things.”

“You’re right,” he said. “It changes two things. First, you no longer have to hold back. Second.” He grinned. “Neither do I. Other than that? Nothing is different. So you’ve evolved. You’ve changed. _Every_ thing changes, Kindlesdaughter. It’s a universal constant. You’ve just jumped ahead faster than the others, and frankly I would expect nothing less from you.”

She said nothing, her face thoughtful.

“Or is it something else?” He stopped, a sudden thought blooming. “Were you trying to protect me? You take three steps forward while I fall back? Sparing my pride, perhaps?”

“Perhaps.”

He studied her face as he read beneath the word. “That’s not all, though,” he went on, pushing down the surprise he found in his voice. “You worried I might be like the others. You feared I would think you a monster. An aberration. You thought I would be disgusted, or worse - you thought I’d be afraid of you.”

A shrug, one that told more than she probably meant it to. He smiled.

“You forget who I am, Kindlesdaughter, and you do so more often than you probably should.”

“Who are you, then?”

He extended his arms, bowing slightly. “I am Loki of Jotunheim. I have walked the Realms for a thousand years and have seen more in one day than most will in a lifetime. I have heard the cries of newborn babes and dying stars. I have stood amid the bones of creatures that were dead long before the All-Father drew breath, and I felt their songs and their sorrows. I have seen darkness made flesh and washed its blood from my hands. I am the prized pupil of Elin the Blind. I am a warrior, trained by the hand of the Valkyrie Queen herself, and _you_ , little one, do not scare me. Even now.”

“No?”

He smirked, a familiar twitch in his lip. “No. You make me nervous on occasion, but that’s hardly the same thing. So do me a favor, if you would.”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Stop holding back. Throw away your fear, or at least put it aside for a while. Forget the world outside this room. Forget the others. Let yourself go.”

She looked at him, and he could feel her waver. Just a little push, then. He took a step toward her. “Take your own advice. You’re under no less pressure than the others, and you need an outlet, just as they do. You’re in a perfectly safe place with a willing opponent, so stop feeling sorry for yourself and do the one thing you’ve wanted to do since almost the first day we met.”

A sudden laugh, and he knew he had won. “Which is?”

“Hit me,” he said, “or at least try. As hard as you please, and I promise to do the same.”

“Suddenly I’m not sure this is all about me anymore.”

“I’m a selfish creature,” he replied with an easy shrug. “I came looking for a fight, and I don’t intend to leave until I get one.”

She shook her head, and he gave her a grin, the one he barely used anymore because he knew how much she had hated it.

Still hated, it as it turned out, and as he happily blocked a strike that nearly took his head off, he wondered if he should have been using it all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated. <3


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which first blood is drawn. (And possibly second.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'll leave it to you to decide who actually comes out on top.)  
> Feedback is appreciated on these last few chapters. :)

Strength. Agility. Durability. She hadn’t lied. Loki found himself pulling out techniques he hadn’t used in quite some time. He could tell she was studying him, as he had studied her at the beginning of their match, and although most times she seemed to adapt quickly, there was one move that, thankfully, she hadn’t found a way around.

She came at him again, moving just as he knew she was going to. He snatched her from the ground, then rapidly slid her from his arms and dropped her flat to the floor, stepping away as he did so.

She lay on her back, her face thoughtful. He poked a toe gently into her side. “Giving up so soon?”

“Hang on,” she said, pulling back from the nudge. “I’ve almost got it.”

“Got what?”

“Why that keeps working.”

He grinned down at her. “It works because it’s not _always_ angle and velocity, little one. It works because you’re still finding your feet, and that makes you predictable. Most of all, it works because I’m a frost giant, and you aren’t. Stand up; I’ll show you.”

She took his outstretched hand, pulling herself upright. “You know as well as I do that fair fighting’s a myth,” he said, releasing her hand and stepping back. “Sparring is one thing, but in a true battle, you can throw the rules out the window. Use every advantage and every trick you have, because you never know which one will keep you alive. In this case, the advantage I have is height. If I can get you off your feet and unable to find leverage, then I have the upper hand.” He beckoned. “Try again, but slow down a bit.”

She repeated her movement, and he caught her easily. “Like this,” he explained, “then this, and this. Now all I have to do is lift, or perhaps just a simple shift of weight, and that's that. Were I an enemy, you would be completely at my mercy, provided I had any. If I didn't, well.” He ghosted his fingers along her neck. “That's why this hand is free.”

Aeslin dangled in his grip, clearly analyzing her predicament. She tried a few ineffective kicks, then went completely limp.

“You're thinking backward,” Loki said. “This isn't something you can just ooze out of. It actually makes my job easier.”

“Good to know,” she replied. “I think I've got it now, thanks.”

He didn't move. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You can put me down.”

“I'd just hate to leave you with any lingering questions,” he went on as though she hadn't spoken. “That's all.”

“No,” she said. “I think I know everything I need to. Besides, I'm sure your arm must be getting tired by now.”

“Hardly, but I do appreciate your concern. Even if it were, I would consider it a worthy sacrifice. I mean, this is more than life or death. This is _science._ ”

“Loki?” she asked after a few moments.

“Yes, Kindlesdaughter?”

“You remember that list I gave you?”

“Strength, agility, et cetera. Yes. All wonderful things, to be sure, but all equally useless to you right now, I'm afraid. What of it?”

“I maybe left something out.”

And just like that, it was over. She tensed in his arms, and then there was a sudden, violent jolt that threw him backward. He instinctively tightened his grip on her, and they slammed into the wall together. Her head smacked into his, the clip that held her hair smashing into his lip. The world went white for a split second; he didn't bother to muffle the yell of pain and frustration that escaped as his hand went to his face.

“Huh,” she said into the quiet that followed. “Didn't think you knew _that_ word.”

***

Loki spat blood into the handful of gauze she had given him. He still sat with his back to the wall; she knelt facing him.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No,” he replied, dabbing his lip. “You're not.”

“You're right. I'm not. Let me see.” She leaned forward, and Loki moved the gauze long enough to allow her an appraisal. “It looks worse than it is, I think. You won't need stitches.” She replaced the cloth and sat back on her heels.

“What is it?” he asked.

Aeslin shrugged. “Easiest answer? Functional telekinesis.” She held a hand in front of her, palm up. A faint, iridescent mist rose from the tips of her fingers; when she looked from it to him, he saw that her eyes had gone from their usual grey-green to a dark, pure silver. “Most accurate answer?” She flicked her fingers, and the mist darted toward her bag, which slid a few feet further away. “I have no idea.”

“Anything _else_ you’ve left out?” he asked, the gauze on his lip only partially masking the slight irritation in his voice. “This might be a good time to finish the list.”

“No,” she said, closing her hand carefully. “That about covers it.”

Questions raced through Loki’s mind, and he had almost opened his mouth to ask the first one when he noticed the look on her face. It was subtle, but by now he was well acquainted with her expressions, and this was one he recognized. His brow furrowed a little as he spoke.

“You’re not happy about this.”

She scoffed a little, still staring at her closed hand. “No. I’m not.”

Loki forgot the pain in his face. “Why?”

“I don't want it.”

He stared at her, the gauze in his hand forgotten. “It’s _magic_ ,” he said helplessly. “How could you  _not_ want such a gift?”

“Because I want to be _normal,_ ” she answered. “With my life? That's all I've ever wanted. To just be normal.”

The laugh shot out of him, completely uncontrollable and surprising them both. Almost a minute passed before he was able to pull himself together, and he felt her glaring at him the whole time. It was meant to silence him, he knew, but it only made things worse.

“ _Normal_ ,” he managed as he wiped tears away with the heel of his hand. He touched his lip, feeling where it had started to bleed again. It hurt like hell, but he wasn't able to stop a fresh round of laughter at the very word. “By the Norns, girl,” he finally gasped. “That's the _last_ thing you want.”

“Really.” Her voice was was ice. “How would you know?”

He forced himself to calm with only some success. “Because we are alike, you and I. More so than I think you care to admit.”

“Uh huh.”

He sat up straighter, pushing himself away from the wall.  “I speak the truth. Neither of us are what we seem. We're both too smart for our own good. We both crave immortality.”

“Hmm. Let's see.” She held up her fingers, ticking off items. “Ruined a coronation. Helped start a war. Killed one king to save another. Lied. Stole. Lied some more. Tried to kill your brother.  All so you could rule for thousands of years from a throne that wasn't yours in the first place. All so your name could echo through the eons.” She regarded him coolly. “You know, the last time I checked, I wasn't the one that did all that. ”

He smiled kindly. “Of course not.  _You_ were too busy writing books.”

Loki stood and retrieved his shoes, then bent forward and gently closed her mouth.

“This was fun,” he said with a pleasant grin, tapping her on the nose as he straightened to leave. “We should do it again soon.”

***

Maris was late, as usual. The others had finished setting up the game by the time she entered; she took the seat next to Loki almost automatically. He realized a second too late which side she was on, and she noticed his lip immediately.

“What happened to you?” she said.

“I just walked into something I shouldn’t have,” he replied with a slightly off-kilter smile. She gave him a sympathetic look, tilting his chin for a better view. She winced when she saw the full damage.

“Wow,” she managed with a grin. “How fast were you going?”

Aeslin gave a slight laugh from where she was stretched out on a couch. “Not fast enough.”

Maris turned briefly away; it was obvious she hadn’t been paying attention to anything but his face. “What?”

Loki shook his head as Aeslin loudly flipped a page in her book. “Don’t mind her. She's had one of those days, I'm afraid.” He held up a bag. “Here, I’ve saved you the red pieces. Shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leonard Cohen is probably best known for writing "Hallelujah", a song that has been covered and remade an incredible amount of times. He was once asked in an interview if it bothered him that people wouldn't leave his song alone. I'm paraphrasing, but he answered that it didn't trouble him at all, because every time someone used his song, he got a little more immortal.
> 
> I think authors are the same way, and she's no different. Every time one of her works is checked out from a library; every time she's cited in a medical journal, she gets just a little more immortal, and there's a small (ignored) part of her that loves it.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there such a thing as a sore winner?  
> (Answer: apparently.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple of weeks ago my beta unit requested a one-shot, and we determined that it would fit into the narrative. This is what happened.  
> Feedback appreciated, as always. :)  
> (Also this one is super short and I might post another later today. Let me know if there's interest.)

_Parker shuffles the cards expertly, snapping them into a neat stack and rapidly dealing each of them a hand. Once her pile is complete, she pulls the cards toward her._

_“Pretty sure this game is meant for way more than two people,” he says as he fans his cards._

_She does the same. “Pretty sure you should have thought about that before yesterday,” she replies. “Not my fault you got yourself uninvited.”_

_“Jealousy,” he says. “Ugly, ugly jealousy.” He peeks over his cards at her. “At least you stood up for me.”_

_“Mmhmm.” She tosses down her first play with a bit of a smirk. “Hence why I’m_ **_also_ ** _uninvited.”_

 _“Which is completely bogus,” Parker says as he tilts his head toward the others and raises his voice just a bit. “I won fair and square, you know. That’s no reason to be punished, and neither one of us would be stuck here if_ **_some_** _one hadn’t broken the tie the wrong way.”_

_Loki’s back is to her, but it doesn’t matter. She can practically smell the grin that slips onto his face, see it in the way he arranges his cards in a razor sharp line._

_“Then perhaps_ **_some_** _one should have skipped his victory song,” Loki replies with a slight glance over his shoulder, “or at least had the decency to limit it to four verses.” She looks back just in time to see Parker’s middle finger going up, and she flicks out her own hand without thinking because the last thing she needs is for Loki to pick up another of Parker’s bad habits. Heaven knows he’s got enough of his own already._

_Parker yanks his hand back with a startled yelp and looks at her, and she has forgotten in that second that he doesn’t know. “What the-”_

_“And there’s more where that came from,” she says with finality, “provided I can find another rubber band. Your turn.”_

_He shakes the sting out of his finger as he flips through his cards, and she is almost sorry. She wants to be sorry, but she can’t be, because Parker hasn’t changed a single bit since the last time she saw him and it makes her so grateful that she wants to hug him. He flips a pair of cards onto the table, then another. “You’re up.”_

_She glances through her cards, then pulls a pair and drops it in front of her._

_Parker’s brow knits as he sorts through his cards. “Going to the Christmas party this year?”_

_“Not if I can help it.”_

_“Last year’s wasn’t so bad.” He grins a little, and she can’t help but laugh, because it was_ **_horrible_ ** _and he knows it. She’d managed to avoid all the other mandatory SHIELD fun times that year, but this was Christmas and practically a requirement of the job. Phil’s cellist had invited him to Boston for the holiday, and he’d bet Aeslin fifty bucks that she’d get out of the party somehow. (It had been the hardest fifty dollars she’d ever earned, at least until a certain god of mischief showed up, and Fury would be paying for that one for years._ **_Decades_**. _)_

_The party had been completely miserable, until midway through when Parker had popped up out of nowhere. He’d taken one look at her, grabbed them drinks and an entire plate of hors d'oeuvres, and he’d spent the rest of the evening on a couch with her making swans out of napkins and talking about nothing. She’d almost given Phil his fifty dollars back, but boots didn’t buy themselves and she was nothing if not practical._

_Parker makes a face. “Nothing. Who dealt this round, anyways? Got any threes?”_

_“Nope,” she says, staring at the pair of them she has in her hand. “Go fish.”_

 


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be a pretty funny joke, to be honest, or: that one time Aeslin was super professional, and Phil was very definitely not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place about a week after their first sparring match and a few days after Coulson arrives at the Warehouse.
> 
> Note: I have no idea what Coulson's middle name is. I haven't been able to find it online, so if anyone knows, please let me know. Otherwise, it stands as it is. 
> 
> Please pretty please let me know what you've thought of the last few chapters. :) Love you guys!

Loki stared at the cards in front of him, wondering how on earth it had come to this. A completely pointless combination. He shuffled them in his fingers, hoping they would somehow rearrange themselves into something better. Aeslin and Coulson had taken a table nearby, and Loki caught snatches of their conversation through the buzz of other voices in the room.

He blinked, and the four diamonds on the card in the center changed to two. The voices around him grew louder, more distinct, and he glanced around the table to see whether they were bothering anyone else. No one seemed to be troubled. A gentle tingling started at the base of his skull.

_Damn it._

Loki smiled, tucking his cards into a neat stack and laying them face down on the table next to his pile of Dubble Bubble. “I fold,” he said, his voice calm as he stood. Maris looked up at him in surprise.

“Leaving so soon? We have time for at least a few more hands.”

He shook his head and immediately wished he hadn’t. “Laundry,” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. The words tangled themselves on his tongue, but he managed to spit a few out. “Didn’t finish. I just remembered.” He excused himself, slipping through the doorway without another word.

The clouds were gathering at the edge of his vision by the time he reached his doorway, his fingers fumbling on the lock. He made his way across the dim room, headed toward his bed. Misjudging the distance, he reached it before he planned, and his foot hit the drawers installed beneath. A tiny bump, really, but just enough to tip him over the edge. Lights exploded behind his eyes, and the room suddenly came into razor-sharp focus as it tilted crazily to one side.

_So bright._

He looked desperately around, hearing his body counting off the seconds until it would become irretrievably useless. Loki fled across the room, his training taking over and dropping him in a controlled fall to the bathroom floor. He kicked the door shut behind him, trapping himself in darkness, and let the pain run wild.

***

Loki had no idea how much time had passed. It might have been hours, or days. He knew only the floor beneath him, slowly growing warm beneath his cheek, the pain, and the dizziness. He wanted to move his head to a cooler spot, but the second he tried, the floor dipped beneath him, dropping him into a bowl full of stars. He could hear them humming, a discordant tune the color of lightning that hung just out of reach.

Ah, the hallucinations. How he’d missed them.

The floor beneath him warped again, and he felt metal ridges along his temple. A faint scent of ozone hung in the air. The stars hissed, clattering to the floor around him like marbles.

Cool air suddenly washed over him, and he shivered. There was a sudden thump on the bottom of his foot, followed by a muffled curse.

Well _that_ , at least, was new. He carefully opened his eyes a slit; a shadow detached itself from the doorway and approached him. Ice on the back of his neck, then his forehead. He felt his legs being shifted, and then the door cracked open again and another shadow eased through. Loki squeezed his eyelids against the faint light from the main room.

“Jeez, kid,” came a whisper. “What’d you  _do_ to him?”

“Hush.” The second voice was closer and more familiar, and Loki felt the hallucination fall toward the depths of his mind as he realized who it was.

A doctor, an agent, and an ex-god in a bathroom. It sounded like the start to one of Parker’s better jokes. Loki let out a helpless sort of giggle, the noise a bit strangled.

“What is it?” Coulson again. “Stroke? Bleed?”

“Doubtful,” she answered quietly. “He gets headaches. They usually come on much later at night, though.”

There was a brief, contemplative silence.

“Oh, for _hell’s_ sake, Phil.” Her voice was a little irritated. “I know how to read a chart.”

“Stop,” Loki managed, his face pressed against her knee.

It pulled back a fraction of an inch. “Sorry,” she said, softer than before.

“No.” He tried again. “Stopped. First since Odin.” He tried to gather his thoughts without much success, as the room was still tumbling inexorably around him. The light from the doorway throbbed in time with his head; he screwed his eyes shut again. It didn’t help. “Second.”

He felt her move again in the semi-darkness. “Did the injections work?”

“Sometimes.”

She stood awkwardly, her knee brushing his nose and sending sparks through the back of his head. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood, crushing profanities as fast as his brain could spit them out.

“I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

“Gladly.”

A patient sigh. “I meant Phil.”

She slithered past Coulson and through the door, leaving Loki alone with the agent. The stars began their humming anew, and Loki spoke over them.

“Don’t tell.”

A rustle of fabric as the agent shifted position against the sink. “I won’t. Nobody’s business but your own, if that’s how you want it.”

“Yes.”

They remained in silence. At the very edge of Loki’s hearing, Coulson’s watch ticked the seconds by, a counterpoint to the mess in his head. After a year, maybe two, Coulson moved from his spot just enough to let Aeslin back through the door. She insinuated herself between Loki and the fixtures, slipping an arm beneath him to push him back further against the wall. He felt her hands on his chest, unfastening the top few buttons on his shirt to give herself enough slack to move his sleeve from his shoulder.

“Wow.” Coulson’s voice came from somewhere above them. “At least tell me you bought him dinner first.”

Aeslin’s fingers froze in the act of swabbing alcohol on Loki’s upper arm. _“Phillip Josiah_ ,” she hissed, using a second piece of gauze to clean the skin. “ _Shame_ on you.” She rested the injector against Loki’s skin, pressing the trigger with a thumb. Loki flinched a little in spite of himself, the tiny impact sending ripples through his nerves like a pebble in a pond.

“You going to live?” Coulson asked Loki, his voice still quiet.

“No.”

“ _Yes_ ,” she said. “I’ll monitor him for a few minutes to make sure it’s working.”

“Good.” Coulson straightened. “Saves me a ton of paperwork. And just so you know, sport, this doesn’t get you out of our meeting tomorrow.”

Loki made a noncommittal noise, hoping it was enough to satisfy the agent. It seemed to; Coulson stepped carefully over his legs and worked his way out the door, leaving it open a crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (For your review: This is the conversation Loki was overhearing.)
> 
> “You shouldn’t encourage him, you know.”
> 
> She flipped a card over without looking at it. “Encourage him to do what? Adapt to his new surroundings? Act like a normal person?”
> 
> Phil gave her a look through his brows that was only missing a pair of reading glasses on a chain. “Normal people don’t beat the crap out of each other for two hours straight and pretend it never happened.”
> 
> “How would _you_ know?” she asked.
> 
> “I’m normal,” he replied without a scrap of irony.
> 
> She stared. “This from the guy who made me promise to serve food on skewers at my wedding rehearsal dinner just in case I changed my mind and needed an extraction?”
> 
> That look again. “And?”
> 
> “And,” she continued, dragging the word out just a little, “you don’t think that’s the least bit abnormal?”
> 
> “No,” he dragged out the word a fraction longer than she had. “ _That’s_ common courtesy.”
> 
> ***
> 
> (Fun fact: Loki's not allowed to do his own laundry. The Great Washing Machine Incident of 2015 ensured that he's actually not even allowed into the self-service facilities without supervision. It took an inordinate amount of chocolate and cajoling to buy her silence. He doesn't like to talk about it.)
> 
> (Note: I don't know the joke. I wish I did. If someone wants to give it a shot, please do.)


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm after the storm.

Aeslin stretched a little, and Loki heard the injector drop into the sink. She pulled his sleeve back to his shoulder with gentle fingers and re-buttoned his shirt. “Squish,” she said. “You’re too tall.”

He curled a little tighter, and she managed to wiggle into the spot between the tub and the top of his head. He relaxed fractionally, allowing his head to rest against her hip. The pressure helped, and as she didn’t ask him to move, he was more than happy to let it stay there. They waited together in the darkness, and at last, the medication began to work. He had been afraid it wouldn’t. It always felt a little strange when it started, as though bubbles were drifting through the vessels in his head, scooping up bits of pain and confusion and carrying them out through the top of his skull.

“Well,” he said carefully, making sure the words were what they claimed to be. “Here we are again. Just like old times.”

A slight chuckle. “How do you figure?”

“You,” he said. “Me. A very tiny room. We’re just missing a game board.”

“It would never fit,” she admitted. “I’m practically in the bathtub as it is.”

He thought a little, the bubbles coursing through his veins more rapidly, like puppies at play. “About that. I’ve meant to ask you. Kept forgetting.”

“Ask me what?”

“The tiny room reminded me,” he said, wondering if he were slurring as badly as he thought he was. “The cell. _My_ cell. You knew it was boring.”

“I did.”

“How did you know?”

“One: because I’m smart, and two: because it was my cell first. I once spent five months down there.”

“ _Really_ ,” Loki said, impressed in spite of himself. “What on earth earned _you_ a cage?”

“It wasn’t a cell when I was there,” she replied. “It was just most of the main room, but that was enough for me.” She nudged him with her hip. “And for your information, I didn’t _do_ anything. I got sick. Fevers, hallucinations, you name it. I needed one on one care and isolation precautions. Fury was my guardian by then. SHIELD’s got some great doctors, and he figured it was as good an idea as any to keep me on-site rather than sending me to a hospital.”

Loki blinked. “So he locked you in the basement? What kind of parent does that?”

“Guardian,” she corrected. “Not parent. _That_ job was done by a set of highly trained specialists.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish. Anyway, I was bored out of my mind. I did school work, read and slept.”

“No visitors?”

“One or two. I hadn’t met Phil yet; that came afterward. There wasn’t really anyone else.”

“No wonder you hated it down there. I thought it was me.”

“Only at first. How are you feeling, by the way?”

The bubbles had subsided, leaving him a little giddy. He slowly rolled to his back, knees bent. The floor stayed flat beneath him, and he allowed himself a small smile. “Better. I’ll be good as know before you new it.” His eyebrows knit. “Wait. Good as n-”

“You should lie down,” she said over his second attempt. He looked up at her, brows still furrowed, and she twitched her lip in the dim light. “I meant somewhere else. Your chart said you’re postdromal.”

“ _Am_ I,” he said, closing his eyes again and resting his hands on his stomach. “That sounds de _l_ _i_ _ght_ ful.”

“It means you have post-headache symptoms, genius.”

“Alas,” he conceded. “It’s true. I’ll spend a few hours feeling weak as a kitten and more than a little drunk, but with any luck, poker night’s become movie night, and I’ll fit right in.”

“It has. Scott took the whole pot, and I think he stole your pile, too.”

“Opportunistic bastard.” Loki grinned, absurdly proud of himself for getting all the syllables in order. “I knew there was a reason I liked him.”

“Are you really planning to go back in there like this?”

“Yes. Just give me a minute.” He rolled back to his side, pushing himself up slowly. Finally on his knees, he sat back on his heels and focused on her face. He lifted a finger, pointing it almost firmly at her. “You doubt me.”

“A little. I’ve just never seen you like this before.” She pushed herself to her feet, offering him a hand. He took it, making it all the way to his feet before swaying. Aeslin pulled his arm across her shoulders.

“You have.”

Her hand stopped midway to the door. “I didn’t know that.”

“That’s because you weren’t meant to know,” he said, bracing the other hand on the wall and looking down at her. He tilted his head toward the door leading out to the hallway. “And neither are they.” He slipped his arm over her head, heading in a controlled stumble to the bed and picking up the blanket folded at its foot. He turned back to see her framed in the doorway, barely visible against the darkness.

“They wouldn’t care,” was all she said.

“You’re right. I suppose they wouldn’t. So, Kindlesdaughter, let’s make a pact, you and I.” He draped the blanket over his arm. “I’ll tell them my secret. I’ll spill _all_ my secrets, in fact, right after _you_ tell them yours.”

She picked the injector up from the sink, making sure the cap was over the needle. There was a tiny smile on her face as she shook her head. He gave her a slightly loopy smile back as he opened the door.

“Jack to raven’s ninth,” he said, offering a slight bow as he ushered her out. “Twenty points, and the game to me.”

***

The movie looked awful, but that was always the risk they took when they let Maris choose. Loki let himself drop gently to the spot on the couch that she had clearly saved for him.

“All done?” she asked.

He nodded as he reached across her, taking the bottle Parker offered him without taking his eyes off the screen. He leaned back against the cushions, handing Maris his blanket before she had a chance to take it from him. It took him three tries to open his bottle, but he didn’t think the others noticed. He pulled his half of the blanket over his legs, tucking it beneath him and settling in for what was shaping up to be a truly horrible film.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a small but vocal part of me that really needs Loki to be a chatty drunk, and these last two sections are sort of a love letter to that tiny, tiny bit of me that laughs SO hard when it thinks about it.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Parker copes in the only way he knows how, and Loki gets paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Or: Team LoCoul: Where we put the fun in dysfunctional.)

Early the next afternoon, the door to the metallurgy lab whisked open. Loki looked up to see Coulson framed in the doorway, coffee cup in hand.

“Sorry,” the agent said without a trace of remorse. “Conference call went longer than expected. Ready?”

“Of course,” Loki replied, pushing back from his workstation. He matched his long strides to Coulson’s as they passed other labs, some dark and others occupied. Coulson took him to the biogenetics lab, across the hallway and a little down from Parker’s workspace. The agent darkened the windows a little so that they could see out but those passing by couldn’t see in. Loki barely noticed when Coulson turned on several displays; his attention was on Parker’s lab, where both Aeslin and the biologist were visible. Loki narrowed his eyes a little, trying without success to figure out what he was seeing.

His silence must have attracted Coulson, because the agent came to stand next to him. “He’s stuck,” Coulson said.

“Sorry?”

“Parker’s stuck,” the other man repeated. “He’s got a theory that makes no sense. He’s missing something; he knows he’ll get it, but in the meantime, Parker’s stuck. And when Parker’s stuck, Parker has dance parties. It’s how he gets unstuck.” He glanced at Loki. “It’s in his file. I’ve never seen one in person, though.” Coulson looked back at the lab. “He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “How would I know?”

“You wouldn’t,” came the reply. “That’s why I’m telling you. That boy’s got _moves._ ”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He thought for a second. “Does she?”

Coulson cleared his throat. “She tries.”

“So that’s a no?”

“Doctor Kindle has many skills. That doesn’t happen to be one of them.”

“Then why do it?”

“She still _likes_ to, plus solo dance parties aren’t half as much fun, and Doctor Kindle is a damn good boss.” Coulson turned back to the displays, but Loki remained where he was.

“She’s different.” He looked at Coulson, who regarded him with an expression that betrayed nothing. “In Iceland. Here. Away from New York. She’s different.”

“That’s funny,” Coulson replied. “I was just thinking how glad I was that she was almost back to normal.” At Loki’s look, the other man shrugged. “She was a person before you got here, champ. I think sometimes you forget that. She had a life, and with luck, she might again.” He stepped away from the window, the conversation clearly over.

Loki took the hint this time, following him over to the display. Coulson reached into an inner pocket of his suit and extracted a thick grey envelope which he handed to Loki. He took it, but didn’t look inside.

“What’s this?”

“Payday,” Coulson replied. “You work. You get paid. Pretty straightforward.”

“According to Parker, interns don’t get paid.”

“They don’t, not generally. But everyone gets a per diem when they’re out of their home area, regardless of whether they’re interns or staff.”

Loki tucked the envelope into his jacket. “ _Per diem._ ” He rolled the words on his tongue. “For the day?”

“Or ‘for the beer’.” Coulson shrugged. “I’ve heard it both ways.”

“I’m sure most of this should go to Doctor Kindle,” Loki observed.

“It’s yours to do whatever you’d like with it. It would be a nice gesture, of course, but she’ll likely tell you to keep it. That’s just the way she is. Besides, she’s been on hazard pay since the second she set foot on Level Four.”

“Hazard pay.”

“It’s what agents earn when they’re in a dangerous line of work.”

“She’s no agent, and it wasn’t that hazardous.”

“She’s not, and says you,” Coulson replied easily. “Not after a while, sure, but you have no idea how close you came to final judgment _long_ before Odin ever woke up. You might not have technically been a hazard, but you _were_ a huge pain in the ass, and that counts in my book.”

“Were.” Loki narrowed his eyes a little.

“Still are on occasion, not to mention you’re a complete logistical nightmare. Maybe it didn’t meet the technical criteria for hazard pay, but since we don’t technically _have_ a category for whatever you are and whatever it was, we threw it under the R &D budget and called it a day.”

Loki made to return the envelope, but Coulson merely looked at it, then at Loki.

“Nope,” was all he said. “It’s yours. You’ve earned it.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I never do anything I don’t mean to. If it still bothers you, just consider it an advance payment.”

“For?” Loki finally tucked the envelope into his pocket.

“I want to know what you know. I want to know what you see.” Coulson looked at him over the table. “Not what you’re supposed to see. Not what the intern sees. What _you_ see.”

“Very well,” Loki replied, holding out his hand. “May I?”

Coulson handed him the stylus. “Please do.”

 


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love! Please leave reviews of the chapters, if you can. I very much love/need feedback. :)

A few taps, and Loki had pulled up the most recent scans from Maris’ lab. “First. What you’re calling an element is actually an alloy.” He reached up, pulling the image apart. “It’s actually two elements. The first one is a metal, and though you’ve never seen it, it’s quite common throughout the Realms. It’s used in shipbuilding, for the most part; it’s able to handle the massive stresses that come with interstellar flight.” He gestured to the other side. “I’ve never seen this one before, but I believe it’s organic.”

“Meaning?”

“A theory only, but I would wager that not only the ship was built from the ground up, but the pilot was, as well. They’re two faces of the same coin, and I very much doubt that you can have one without the other.”

“What else?”

“Little to no identifiable weaponry. Scout, perhaps. As far as propulsion goes, I have no idea. I don’t think we have enough information. Scans and samples are all well and good, but without being able to take it apart?” Loki shrugged.

“Understood. Anything more?”

“Doctor Kindle and I have finished the soil analysis from beneath and around the wreckage. As best we can tell, it didn’t come down when Gunnarson said it did. The lights were the aurora; I think his first instinct was correct. From the analysis of the pollen, we believe it actually came down weeks or even months ago. Because of its composition, normal deterioration was impossible. Scavengers avoided it, and even the bacteria didn’t seem to know what to do with it. I’m surprised no one found the thing before Gunnarson did.”

“It was quite far off the beaten path,” Coulson said absently as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “A lot like Mr. Gunnarson himself.” He studied the readout without seeming to see it.

“What do you know about creating wormholes?” the agent suddenly asked, his voice a little distracted.

Loki blinked at the seeming non sequitur. “Enough to know that your people are likely centuries from being able to,” he replied. “You lack the technology, or the magic, if you will. It’s much the same thing, and that’s good, because you also lack the maturity required to handle such power. Not to mention you’re missing the non-linear thinking needed, with very few exceptions.”

“Magic.” The agent rocked onto the balls of his feet and back again. “Is that how you got the giants in under Odin’s nose?”

A laugh. “No. I exploited a weakness. I found a hole; I made it bigger, and then I sewed it up again. Wormholes aren’t a parlor trick, Agent Coulson. Bifrost requires massive amounts of energy to create even small ones, drawn from within Asgard itself. I can’t _make_ wormholes. I couldn’t when I was at the height of my power. Odin can’t even make them, and _you_ certainly can’t.”

There was a long silence, and Loki closed his eyes and sighed. “Except you have.”

“Once. A single, spontaneous event. Nothing before, and nothing since. We’re not even sure how we did it.”

“ _Won_ derful.” Loki dropped his head to his hand with a gentle smack.

“You know, I thought it would be?”

“What do you mean?” Loki replied, his brow knit.

“I thought it would be wonderful. Glorious. The universe opened wide and showing the past, the future and everything in between. I thought it would be like opening a window to eternity. Turns out it was more like opening your front door and finding a dead possum on your porch. Not really that inspiring, in the grand scheme of things.”

“A dead _what_?”

Coulson gave him that grin. “Possum. Creepy little things, really, and they’re never quite as dead as they seem to be.”

A blink. “You… you opened a wormhole and found a _possum?_ ”

“No,” replied Coulson. “We found _you_. But it probably would have looked about the same.”

Loki thumped into a chair, his mind spinning. “But-”

“How do you think you got here, sport? You got yourself dropped into the Void. We don’t have interstellar travel. How the hell would we have found you? We weren’t even looking.”

“They never gave me specifics. I believed that Thor had retrieved me after a long search.”

The quiet that followed was a little too long and a little too heavy. Loki let out a breath. “Which I was allowed to believe. Which he didn’t.”

“No. He didn’t. He wanted to. He did as much as he could, from what he told us, but he didn’t even know where to begin, and he couldn’t risk angering Odin by searching for a tr-" He winced and started over. "For you."

He didn't need to finish the word.  _Traitor_.

Loki ignored the word as best he could as he shook his head. “Odin was asleep; he would not have known what Thor was doing until he woke. At least, that’s what I was told. The shock of my loss had driven Odin back into sleep, and I would remain in Midgard until he woke. Thor had to keep the Realms together. My mother was not strong enough to do it alone, and she required her eldest’s help. I would have to wait. That’s all I was _ever_ told. Was that a lie, too?”

“Yes and no. As far as I know, _most_ of that was true. The only bit was that Odin didn’t go into his sleep until after he got the news you were alive. Apparently it was the last straw.” Coulson’s voice held a sort of apology.

“A wormhole,” Loki repeated numbly, retreating to relatively safer ground.

“Yep. Right into Selvig’s dark matter lab. You were able to tell me your name, but that was all. It was enough to start looking. Got a couple of hits, made a few interdimensional calls, and several hours later, your brother showed up. It took him a minute, but he was able to confirm who you were.”

A curious look at that, and Coulson made a vague sort of gesture. “You didn’t, uh…” he cleared his throat. “You looked a little different than you do now, that’s all.” He looked a little uncomfortable, which surprised Loki a bit. “Red,” he finally said. “You were… there was a lot more… red.”

Another thought. “Wait. I told _you_ my name. You were there?”

“I was. And so was she. 243 seconds after it closed.”

He looked up, a final piece dropping into place. “Dark matter. _That’s_ when it happened?”

“Yes,” confirmed the agent.

Loki dropped his head back to his hands. “It _was_ my fault.”

Coulson sat across from him, arms along the back of the chair. He didn’t bother to hide the gentle smirk on his face. “Told you so.”

 _Two lives changed in a single moment, and I remember none of it._ The idea troubled him, as did another.

“The odds of a wormhole finding a single person in the Void are astronomical,” he said, his voice low.

“Agreed,” replied Coulson. “We’re still not sure how we did it.”

Loki was already shaking his head. “Wormholes are conduits. Doors. They can be opened from both sides.” He looked intently at Coulson. “How can you be sure _you_ did it at all?”

“That,” said Coulson, taking a sip of coffee, “is an excellent question, and you’re not the first to ask it.”

“Who else has?”

Another sip. Another smile. “Me. And so far, I haven’t gotten a good answer, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also think I'm in the market for an additional beta reader/hive mind. If you have any interest or are at the very least willing to let me fangirl at you for a moment, please look me up on Tumblr at sweetmauleymalloy.
> 
> <3


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflection after revelation.

_He goes back into the metallurgy lab in a sort of daze. Westinghouse has joined Maris, and they are chattering excitedly. They both look up as he enters, and she asks him what’s wrong. What is he to say to her?_

_I am Loki of Jotunheim. I was dropped into the vast expanse of the cosmos and scooped up again like a rock in a shoe. Son of two kings, wanted by neither, in the end. I fell through time and space, tossed aside into the dark by the man I called father, and my brother never came for me. They told me he did, and I believed them because I needed to. One more lie, swallowed like so many others. I am the once-god of mischief. The once-god of lies, and I am sick to death of the taste of them._

_He cannot say it; he cannot say any of it, and so he offers a rueful smile instead. He pulls a thought at random, snatched from a conversation overheard a week ago at breakfast._

_“They denied my project funding,” he replies, having only a general idea of what that truly means, but he is encouraged when their faces drop, as well._

_“It’s all right,” Maris says as she puts a hand on his arm. “It happens to the best of us, especially this time of year. You’re just getting started; no need to worry about it. We’ll help you with your proposal so you can submit next year, and it will be fantastic. We’ll get Parker on it. He’s crazy good with words. I mean, why else would he do his crosswords in pen?”_

_A smirk. “He found one, then?”_

_“Apparently. He’s beside himself.” She gives his elbow a comforting squeeze, all gentle eyes and soft hands, and Thor never came for him._

_He thanks her, and she returns to Westinghouse to resume her conversation as Parker and Aeslin walk past the window. Parker mimes through the glass, asking if Loki is hungry, and he shakes his head with another pasted-on smile, appetite gone. He stares at the displays, seeing everything and nothing and wanting to scream at the others for their blindness, but he cannot blame them for what they cannot see, and his brother never came. Thor will be king, and a king should have no fear, but his brother’s time on Midgard has changed him. He wilts before the All-Father now like a violet in summer. Thor masks fear with loyalty, as he always has, and his brother never came._

_Loki pulls his small tablet from his jacket, feeling the weight of the envelope Coulson has given him. A gesture to show that he is not forgotten, that he is no longer overlooked. Loki flips through the screens, his fingers nimble on the now-familiar device. A contact. A picture, the same one that is on her badge, the one that looks nothing like her. His fingers skid over the lit keyboard, sending five words without a second thought, knowing full well she will understand, as she always does eventually._

_\- I need to hit someone. -_

_There is an interminable silence from her, and he shoves the device back into its place. He casually chats with the others for long minutes as they discuss what they know. Flight. Alloys. Craft composition. Theoretical physics. They are children, these humans. Virgins, the lot of them, fumbling hopefully in the darkness as they try to understand what they cannot even identify. He would pity them, if he remembered how, but at this moment he does not._

_A single vibration against his rib, and he keeps himself from snatching the tablet into the light. Instead, he eases it out as though it is something unimportant, and to anyone else, it would be. A simple, official meeting request, set for later in the evening, after a dinner he will be unable to stomach and long enough before sleep that he can exhaust himself. He will break himself on her like the sea, and afterward, he will not dream or think or wonder why his brother lied. He checks the small box to accept the meeting, smiling a little at her attached instructions to bring his own gauze this time. Just in case._


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are monsters, and then there are monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two today, since the one before this was so short. Hope you enjoy! (Tell me if you do!)

Loki came to dinner late and stayed as short a time as possible before excusing himself for his meeting. He forced himself to take his time, stopping in the lounge to grab a couple of water bottles before making his way downstairs. Aeslin met him at the elevators with her boots in one hand. She accepted the bottle he offered her, tucked it into one of her shoes and tapped the elevator button with an elbow.

“So what’s this about?” she asked once the doors had closed.

Loki shrugged, watching the numbers change.

“I mean,” she continued, “if you’re going to try to smash me into paste, I should at least get to know why.”

“I’m not going to smash you into paste,” he said.

She led the way from the elevator. “Didn’t say you would,” she replied. “I said you’d try.”

“Talk later.” He swiped his badge and shoved open the heavy door to the workout room.

“Promise?”

He let the door shut behind them, walking over toward the wall to deposit his water, shoes and socks on the floor. “No.”

“You _are_ in a mood this evening.” She tossed down her things next to his, slipping off her socks as well.

“No powers,” he said in answer. “You won’t need them. That I _do_ promise.”

“Fair enough.” She stopped a few feet away and rolled her shoulders. “Let’s call this meeting to order, shall we?”

***

It was quite some time before either spoke again. Loki lost himself in the rhythm of combat, and if he hit harder than he meant to once or twice, she didn’t seem bothered. She merely responded in kind, and Loki was grateful for the way she took things in stride. The tension left his muscles, replaced by trickles of sweat as he pushed himself further. She stepped too close, but as he grabbed her, she kicked his legs from beneath him, sending them both to the floor. He smiled in spite of himself.

_She learned that from me._

Aeslin pushed upward and slid from beneath him. Climbing to her feet, she offered him a hand to help him up. He took it, but only allowed her to pull him to a sitting position and then let go.

“Did you know?” he asked.

She sat across from him, tucking a few sweat-dampened strands of hair behind her ear. “Know what?”

“About the wormhole that brought me here. The one that broke you. About how my brother…” he trailed off. “How Thor was not the one to find me.”

“Most of it,” she said, toying with a string on the hem of her shirt.

“Why did no one tell me the truth? Why did they let me believe it?”

“I don’t know the official reason. I assume it’s because of how highly classified it was. I was only told what I needed to know; Fury didn’t even tell _me_ about the wormhole until a while after I took over your care, and that’s only because I found a few inconsistencies in your file.”

“Then why did _you_ let me believe it?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment, twisting the thread around her finger. “You were a dead man,” she finally said. “That’s what I was told. Once Odin woke up, it would be over. You and Thor were spending time together; you seemed almost happy sometimes when he was there. You didn’t have much longer to live, so I didn’t think the truth would make that much of a difference.” She refused to look at him, her gaze on the floor. “The lie seemed kinder, in the end.”

“And later? When the sentence was passed, and I was sent back? Why not tell me then?”

She shrugged, still looking down. “It still didn’t seem right. There was so much hurt in you. So much anger. So much sorrow. You had so little left that taking that away… it seemed almost cruel. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I am a _murderer_ , Kindlesdaughter,” he said. “A monster. I have gotten _exactly_ what I deserve.” He sat back a little. “But you don’t believe that. You’ve never believed it. You told the All-Father as much.”

A turn of blue string around her knuckle. “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

“He made sure I did.” Loki watched the top of her head, unable to summon the anger he wanted to. “He wanted me to know how small and pathetic I was. How far I had fallen. How low a creature I had become that even the mortals pitied me.”

There was a harshness in her voice. “It wasn’t pity. It was _never_ pity.”

“Odin thought differently,” Loki replied. “He didn’t understand that you completely lack the capacity for it. You’ve made that very clear in the time that I’ve known you, but even throwing that out the window, it leaves me with the same question. You know what I am. You know what I’ve done, and yet you still seek to help me. To protect me. To _save_ me. Why?”

“I know what monsters are,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’ve lived with them for a long, long time. They don’t always look like you expect them to. They don’t always act like you expect them to. And every so often, you find one that doesn’t make sense. One that’s covered in his own blood and tears, and not someone else’s like he should be. One that teases and jokes and pisses you off to no end. One that hates Queen and won’t touch oatmeal with a ten-foot pole. One who reads the complete works of Lovecraft in a single day and laughs until he cries. One that sees through every illusion but his own. One who knows that sometimes the nightmare under your bed is just a mirror.” The string in her hand snapped. “One that talks in his sleep.”

She met his eyes, and he almost couldn’t bear what he saw there.

“Not often,” she went on. “In fact, I only heard you once. I read about the other times. But it was enough.”

“When?”

“The morning I was putting my dissertation together. I’d been there since a little after one, and you started about three in the morning.” She twisted her fingers as if unsure what to do with them now that her thread was gone. “Most of it wasn’t English. Thor listened to it later and told me he had no idea what you were saying, which was an absolute lie and we both knew it. I only caught the little bit I could understand.”

“What did I say?”

“You said you were sorry. Over and over again. Then you woke up a few hours later and asked to read my thesis like nothing had happened, even though you didn’t have a good reason why, and suddenly the monster wasn’t a monster anymore. It threw me off so much that I maybe I got angrier than I should have and that’s probably the real reason why you got to read the stupid thing in the first place, and I’m sorry, Loki. I promised you the truth, and I should have given it to you, because otherwise it’s no different than Odin lying to protect you from yourself, and I think we can all see how well _that_ ended, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Loki suddenly didn’t trust his voice, so he merely reached across the small space between them and took her hand, as he had done in the hospital once before. She tightened her fingers around his with a faint smile, and Loki Silvertongue, Loki Wordsmith, Loki who always knew what to say and when to say it, managed the only thing he could think of.

“Your thesis wasn’t stupid.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH. I should not be posting feels chapters when I'm already an emotional trainwreck. 
> 
> Feedback appreciated! :D


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Parker sulks, and Aeslin asks a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated, especially on OCs. Love you guys!

Loki came down to the morning meeting a few days later to find everyone but Westinghouse. Parker sat slumped at the table, glasses discarded and head buried in his arms, and he didn’t look up when Loki sat next to him. Loki shot a glance across the table at Aeslin, who was absently patting Parker’s arm with one hand while she did a crossword puzzle with the other. She looked up.

“Hangover?” he mouthed silently.

She shook her head, but Parker spoke instead, voice muffled.

“It’s not _fair_.”

“It is, though,” she replied, and Loki could tell this wasn’t the first time she had said the words this morning. “Scott’s a physicist. You’re astrobiology. It just makes sense.”

“Doesn’t.”

“ _Does_ ,” she said, not unkindly. “Astrophysics. Dark matter.”

“Which _could_ be organic,” Parker said into the table. “Organic. Biological. _Astro_ biological, and now it might be too late and we’ll never know because he’ll ruin _everything_.”

Aeslin rolled her eyes at Loki, who smiled a little as he took a sip of tea. “A week,” she said. “He’s shadowing in the dark matter lab for a week, maybe ten days. Doctor Selvig’s just showing him the ropes. He won’t even really be _working_ down there. He’ll be lucky if he gets to do anything but coffee runs. Or wait. They might not allow drinks in that lab. Doesn’t matter. The point is, he’s only visiting, and your turn will come soon enough. It’s nothing personal. I promise.”

Parker scoffed; the effect was lost somewhere in his shirtsleeve. “Bah.”

“We got another data packet from Iceland last night,” Aeslin said soothingly. “Could have some fun stuff in there.”

“Like _dark matter_?”

She sighed, pushing aside her puzzle and checking her tablet. “Five minutes, Parker. You have five more minutes to feel sorry for yourself, and then it’s time for work. I’ll schedule you a pity party for tonight, if you’d like. With snacks, even.”

Parker lifted his head, just a little. “ _Good_ snacks?”

“The best,” she assured him. “Always the best for my team.”

***

Loki stood with Aeslin in her lab, helping her sort through the data that had come through the night before. She sorted quickly, talking as she went, and he flicked files from their lab to the others with a careful hand. He stopped here and there, taking in images and scans before sending them on, tagging those that interested him with the code Coulson had supplied him for easy retrieval later on.

“...magic,” she was saying, and he realized that she had been asking him a question. He sent the file he had marked on to the metallurgy lab, then turned to her.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t catch that.”

“You said what I have was magic. Do you really think it is?”

“I actually have no idea,” he replied. “I was a little out of sorts at the time, if you remember, and I called it what I knew. It could be any number of things.”

“But it might be.”

Loki shrugged. “It seems likely. Why do you ask?”

“Do you think you could train me to use it? Really use it. More than just pushing bags and throwing pens and getting myself shoved out of planes to see if I can fly, which incidentally was _not_ my idea.” She looked over at him. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m years ahead from where I was even a month ago, but to be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I need help. Bruce and Phil have done as much as they can, but since I’m apparently SHIELD’s first full-blown telekinetic, we’re kind of writing the manual as we go. You were different than what I am, but you know magic. You lived it and breathed it and controlled it in a way that almost no one else could. You made it a part of what you were, and I hoped maybe you could teach me to do the same.”

She looked back at the display, and there was a line between her brows. “You don’t have to,” she said suddenly. “Not if it would bother you. I didn’t think about that.”

He nudged her a little. “Still trying to protect my feelings?”

A gentle nudge back. “Maybe a little.”

“I’d be glad to,” he said. “I don’t know how much I can do, but, as always, you’re welcome to whatever I can give. When would you like to start?”

“Whenever you have time,” she said.

Another shrug. “I have time now,” he said. “I know you’re worried about the others knowing, but we’re at the Warehouse. We can talk all we’d like, mentor to student, and as long as it’s _completely_ theoretical, none will be the wiser. It’s perfect.”

She laughed a little. “Sneaky bastard.”

“God of mischief.”

“Oh, like there’s a difference.”

He sent another file on its way. “You know,” he observed with a grin, “you’re pretty lippy for a student.”

 


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki pretends to be a morning person for the greater good.

Loki slipped from his rooms and into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. Moon-dappled carpet stretched before him, and he walked down the hall as though it was the most normal thing in the world to be strolling around a classified facility at four in the morning.

SHIELD catered to their insomniacs, though, and the common room was semi-occupied even at this hour. Loki entered, nodding to some of the others in the room; he had become acquainted with them during his weeks at the Warehouse. Aeslin looked up from one of the huge cushions scattered around the floor and smiled. 

“Right on time,” she said, climbing to her feet. 

Loki scrubbed a hand across his face. “Do you  _ never _ sleep?”

She ran fingers through hair still damp from her shower, tucking it into a bun. “Now and then,” she said. “Ready?”

“One moment.” He poked his head into the refrigerator, extracting one of the hideous but effective bottles of coffee, then snagged a bagel from the display on the table as they made their way out the door and to the elevator. She eyed the beverage with a faint grin.

“Didn’t  _ you  _ sleep?”

He shrugged. “A little.” Tapping the button, he sent them down to a lower floor than previously, holding the door open for her as she led the way out. He popped open the top of the bottle. “Finish telling me what you started to before Maris came in yesterday.”

“It doesn’t always come when I call,” she said, easily picking up the thread of a previous conversation. “It’s almost like it doesn’t want to. Other times, there’s too much. It’s like opening a can of snakes.” At Loki’s look, she mimed a small explosion. “Boom. I’ve been keeping track, and it seems to be attached to my emotional state.”

She swiped her badge, and Loki pushed the heavy training room door open with his back. This one had a higher ceiling and a few more functions, and their voices echoed a little. “If I understand, it seems almost as though it’s reading you. If you’re nervous, or frightened, then it won’t come out. If you’re angry, it responds in kind, and that’s when you fear you’ll hurt someone.”

“Exactly. So what are you thinking?”

He took a drink, trying not to wince. “Two things. You need to take emotion completely out of the picture. You’ve said that it takes conscious thought. Focused energy, and a lot of it. The more emotional you are about it, the more energy you waste.” He gestured with his breakfast. “Second. You need to learn how to hurt someone with it.”

A blink. She opened her mouth to argue, and he put a finger to her lips, handing her half of his bagel. “Eat and listen,” he said. “Argue later, if you must. It’s much too early for it now.”

“I won’t argue,” she said, taking his offering and tearing off a bite. “It just seems counterintuitive.”

He sat against the wall with his legs stretched out, indicating a spot next to him. She joined him. 

“All right. Let me start over.” He thought for a second. “How many ways can your brother kill a man?”

She shrugged a little. “All of them?”

“An exaggeration out of love, I’m sure.” A brief smile. “Probably not a large one, though. Second question.  _ Has  _ your Agent Coulson ever killed someone?” Loki held up a hand. “I don’t need numbers or details. Just a simple yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Has he ever killed someone in anger?”

That tripped her for a moment, and her brows knit. “I don’t-” she hesitated.

Loki answered for her. “He hasn’t,” he said. “I can assure you of that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He’s a predator,” Loki shrugged. “So am I. You learn to recognize these things.”

“He’s  _ hurt  _ someone out of anger; I do know that,” she said slowly. “But you’re right. I don’t think he killed him.”

“He didn’t, and the reason he didn’t is because Coulson’s power - his beast, if you will - is controlled. He tamed it long ago. Emotion has no place in his actions. His thoughts, yes. His feelings, yes, but never his actions, and just because he  _ can _ doesn’t mean he  _ has _ to. You need to think the same way. You need to know how your power works; its ins and outs and how it feels to use it in every single way you can, including the ways you don’t want to. That way, you’re not caught off guard or frightened when something happens. It can’t get out of control, because  _ you’re _ not out of control.” He finished his drink. “If it truly is magic, and more and more I think it is, then like a hound, or a horse, it needs to be mastered. It might take some time, but it can be done.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Centuries,” he said, “but my experience was different. I had a strong latent ability, to be sure, otherwise I would not have been able to learn a third of what Frigga taught me, or to claim more for myself. It manifested early, and at a high level, but it was only a predisposition. I wasn't born knowing what to do. I had to study it. Coax it out. Winnow it free, piece by piece, year by year, spell by spell until it was as natural to me as breathing. You seem to have the opposite problem. Too much at once of something that technically doesn't exist on your world. That doesn’t mean I can’t help you. I just have to think a little upside-down and backward, that’s all.” He gave her an encouraging smile as he pushed himself to his feet, and she followed, brushing her hands on her jeans. “So let’s get started.”

She walked to the center of the room, turning after a few steps. He made a gentle shooing motion and stayed where he was. 

“You’re not coming out here?”

“I need to see what you can do, and while your last demonstration  _ was  _ quite spectacular, I didn’t get up three hours before dawn just so you could ruin another shirt. I’ll observe from here, thank you very much; it’s a more complete picture anyway.”

“You know, there’s an observation booth over in the corner. It might be safer.”

“I’m all right.” She shrugged, and the moment she was distracted in doing so, he threw his empty bottle at her head. 

Her hand went up immediately, mist coalescing around her fingers, and the glass container stopped in midair, tumbling end over end a few inches from her face. A slight smile, and then she twisted her fingers and sent the bottle toward the opposite side of the room. A second later, it struck the wall, shattering into thousands of sparkling fragments, and they stared together at the gently smoking crater left behind. 

Loki cleared his throat. “On second thought, perhaps the booth might not be a bad idea.”

“No,” she agreed, eyes still on the dented steel wall. “Not a bad idea at all.”


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm without warning.

_He emerges from the stairwell into the lower levels of the building and heads for the lab, the path so familiar by now he barely pays attention. He is half asleep; the long days, late nights and early mornings have begun to take their toll. He will doze through the movie tonight, as he occasionally does; he will need his full faculties in the morning when he once again tries to teach her. Her strong, barely-tamed magic will allow nothing less._

_He plans the rest of his day, sorting the hours ahead of him like cards in a deck. He is almost at his destination, head bowed and mind distracted, when the lights go out. He stands in the dark for a few seconds before they come back on. This time there are fewer of them. His instincts take over, and the hair on the back of his neck prickles. He stands in silence for a moment._

_Nothing._

_He resumes moving toward the labs, faster now. He is anxious to find out what is going on but has taken only a few steps before they blink off again. Once more he stops, listening. There is a room to his left, dark now that the only the emergency lights are active. A hallway stretches to his right. Sound begins to creep down the corridor before him, and he hears faint shouting. He tenses, every nerve on edge. Something is coming. An alarm begins above him; he can suddenly hear nothing else, and he inwardly curses its uselessness._

_There is a brief moment of light and shadow at the end of the hall. Time seems to slow. Dark figures come into view, wreathed in smoke. One raises a weapon, and he readies himself, shifting his weight._

_He has barely begun to move when he senses something to his right, and he realizes that he has been flanked. He twists; his hand reaches for the new target, thinking to use it as a shield. In the second before he strikes, she hits him full in the chest, the momentum of her body throwing them both through the glass wall behind him. The hallway explodes in blue light as they slam to the floor together, sliding a few feet as glittering shards rain down around them, and then she is shoving him ahead of her toward a door on the other side of the room. They slither carefully but rapidly through glass fragments and away from the haze and confusion._

_As they exit and scramble to their feet, the door slams behind them. She glances back, and the steel warps and bends. Though it might not stop the intruders for long, she has bought them time. Keeping him in front of her, she pushes him down another hall. He can hear her talking and realizes she must be wearing her earpiece._

_“This is wrong,” he calls back through the darkness. “We should be fighting, not running!”_

_“We have strict orders not to engage,” she shouts back. She yanks him across another corridor; this one is scattered with more glass and twisted metal but is thankfully empty. Their boots crunch through the debris. “And more than that, the alarm means that the failsafes have been activated. This building is coming down, no matter who’s still inside.” She skids to a stop, grabbing his arm. “This way._ **_Go._** _"_

_They weave through badly lit hallways. As they reach a stairwell, they hear a shout. Aeslin turns defensively, but Coulson has found them. He leads a pair of figures, and Loki recognizes Parker and Maris in the semi-darkness. He opens the stairwell door, and Aeslin leads them down a few flights. Coulson brings up the rear, gun at the ready. He clearly has no plans to follow the order to not engage. They emerge at last into the underground garage, and he quickly directs them to the nearest vehicle._

_“Drive.” Coulson points to Aeslin, and she jumps into the seat, the vehicle answering to her biometrics and roaring to life. Coulson takes shotgun, and the others crowd into the back._

_“Hold on to something.” She has barely finished the sentence before she drops her foot on the gas, headlights flashing on. She takes a turn quickly, and the car drifts in a perfect half-circle as they climb toward the surface. Aeslin executes another spin, throwing them in a different direction. Vibrations thrum beneath them, and Maris is thrown toward Loki. He braces against the window and catches her head in his ribs, adding insult to the injury already inflicted._

_“Who the hell taught you to drive?!” she screams toward Aeslin, clawing herself upright. Loki pushes against the gravity threatening to shove him through the window and steadies her. Parker looks over at him, his hand white on the back of the seat in front of him._

_“_ ** _I_ ** _did,” Coulson yells back, uncharacteristically angry. “And I did a damn fine job of it!”_

_Loki risks a look behind him and almost wishes that he hadn’t. Cracks have appeared in the surface of the garage floor, and they grow larger by the second. The ride gets bumpier as Aeslin swerves to avoid one that opens near the front tires. He sees a blur of motion as a small craft whips around the corner behind them. He turns to the front. “Coulson-”_

_“I see it,” he replies. He rips open the compartment in front of him just as the car bursts into the sunlight. Loki swears that they leave the ground for a few seconds, crashing back down an instant later. Maris has stopped cursing, and her fingers painfully dig in just above his knee. Parker is little more than catatonic. Aeslin slams on the pedal again, and the car speeds toward the gate._

_“Closing,” Coulson says almost conversationally._

_“Don’t care,” replies Aeslin. A pressure fills the car, and a split second later, it is gone. The gate is blown violently outward. The car lurches to the side, and then they are free of the gate and on the roadway. The agent glances over at her, then back behind them._

_“DOWN,” Coulson yells. Loki reacts instantly, shoving the others to the floor and throwing himself between Maris and the door as the rear windshield erupts, spraying glass in a shimmering cloud. Their pursuer is catching up, and Coulson pulls a small sphere from the compartment._

_“Fire in the hole,” he shouts, dropping it out the window. Too quick to see, the grenade flashes past the rear doors, latching on to the vehicle behind them. A second later, there is a muffled thump as the weapon deploys. Coulson turns around and frowns._

_“Minimal damage,” he says. “Shielded, maybe, but I think I hit something important. Seems a little wobbly, and with any luck it won’t be able to bank worth a damn.”_

_“Whitebridge,” she replies, and Coulson gives her that now-familiar smile._

_“And that,” he says, “is why we’re friends.”_

_Loki leans up a little to see out the window, his hand still on Maris’ back. There is another shot from the creature, and Coulson fires back in answer. Signs for a bridge flash by, and he has a sudden, sinking realization of what’s about to happen. She is gambling, throwing in all her chips and theirs at once. The seconds stretch as she yanks on the brake, allowing the car to sweep out as she aims for the narrow entrance to the road that opens to their right. Coulson throws another grenade out the window. It explodes as they are fired on again, sheet lightning sweeping across the windshield and shattering the windows on the passenger’s side, and then they are on the bridge._

_Another glance behind, and her gamble has almost paid off. Shields and controls damaged, the alien craft cannot bank in time, and it smashes into the abutment. Its momentum stays, and some of the wreckage pinwheels down the road behind them. They leave the bridge, and Aeslin jerks the car to the right. The debris from the craft slides past them, shearing off her mirror._

_Loki lets out the breath he has been holding. The silence seems almost surreal. Aeslin drives forward again, carefully avoiding the mess in the road, and she taps a button on the steering wheel. Barton’s voice answers immediately._

_“Please tell me you have eyes on us,” she says. There is something wrong with her voice._

_“We’re less than four minutes out,” he confirms. “There’s a field about three miles from your position if you keep on your current route. I’ll put the jet down there.”_

_“Call ahead,” she says. “We need a trauma team to meet us.” She is steering with one hand, the other steadying Coulson in his seat. The agent’s arm is tucked into his jacket. His breaths are rapid, his eyes closed._

_“How bad?” Barton asks._

_She drives faster. “Bad.”_

_The next few minutes pass in a blur; the wind howls through the broken windows, and Loki narrows his eyes against the chill. Maris’ head is buried in his shirtfront; he can feel her trembling through the fabric. Parker will not respond to his voice. He sees Aeslin speaking to Coulson and is almost glad he cannot hear what they are saying. He can tell her voice is calm. Soothing. Her hand stays on the agent, arm stretched across the console between them._

_A sudden, brief warning, and then they are bouncing and thudding across a field covered in broken, half-frozen plants. A Quinjet perches in the middle, the ramp already down. Aeslin stops the car and leaps out, sprinting around the front end and yanking the door open. In an instant, Rogers is at her side, and together they allow Coulson to drop gently from the cab into Roger’s waiting grip._

_He is startled when the door next to him is thrown back. Romanoff stands outlined, a pistol in one hand. “Move,” she says, and Loki does. He tugs Maris from the car and hands her off, then goes around and pulls Parker from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder, and they barely make the ramp as the jet leaves the earth. Romanoff shoves them all toward the cockpit, gesturing toward the seats. Rogers and Aeslin stand over a bunk where Coulson’s supine body lies, strapping it in. There is blood everywhere._

_“Ten minutes,” Barton turns back toward them as the jet lifts off._

_“Not good enough.” Aeslin is tearing at her brother’s shirt, buttons pinging crazily to the floor. She touches his neck as she yanks out her headset, tilting her ear to his mouth. Rogers is opening a kit, and she pulls out some of the contents, scattering them around her. She grabs one packet, ripping it open with her teeth and attaching a metal disk to Coulson’s neck. It glows with a blue light along the edge that immediately changes to an angry red._

_Aeslin shoves Rogers to the side, her back to Loki as she braces over Coulson, her hands on his chest. She pushes rhythmically down, and Loki realizes that the agent’s heart has stopped. Minutes pass with no change._

_“Barton!” her voice is strained, her breath coming in gasps._

_“Almost down!”_

_“Drop it!”_

_“You’re not in!”_

_“DROP!”_

_Barton curses, and seconds later Loki’s heart leaps into his throat as the jet falls beneath him. Aeslin and Rogers are not strapped in, and they are flung into the air like dolls. She slams into the overhead jump bars; he winces at the sound. Rogers fares no better. Almost before the jet’s wheels touch down, she is up and back at Coulson’s chest. The disk on his neck glows a faint blue, and she leans back briefly, shoving sweaty hair from her forehead and leaving a bright streak of blood._

_The ramp comes open, and a few people rush in. The entire top layer of the bunk is raised and snapped into a waiting gurney. As the rails are lifted, the disk turns red once again. Aeslin climbs onto the bar that runs between the wheels and begins compressions anew as the gurney is pushed from the jet. There are questions fired at her, and she answers each between pulses. Romanoff is already unbuckling her restraints and moving toward the ramp, and Loki pushes the straps away from his own chest and follows. He dimly senses Rogers fall into step behind him. He does not know what will become of Maris or Parker. He almost does not care._

_The stretcher has disappeared by the time they reach the elevator bay, and the three take a narrow staircase down instead. They are met in a sparsely furnished room by a man in scrubs who stands next to a set of double doors and forbids them to enter. He tells them to sit. None of them do, and a moment later, Barton has joined them._

_Minutes tick away, each an eternity. There is complete quiet. Loki leans against the wall, his hands in his pockets. The long, heavy silence weighs on him, and he begins to feel the aches that the adrenaline has held at bay._

_A scream lashes through the waiting room. Each lifts their head, not needing to be told what has just happened. A moment passes, and then he hears a sound of pure desolation, a cry of loss so profound that it threatens to tear his heart from his chest. He is moving before it dies away, shedding his jacket like a second skin. The doctor at the door is already holding up a warning hand._

_“You can’t go back there,” he warns. “We’ll handle it.”_

_Loki smiles, and the man takes a step back._

_“That’s cute,” he says, unconsciously mimicking her as he shoves his crumpled jacket into the doctor’s chest. A second later, he is through the doors, and they swing closed behind him._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> umm....
> 
> jellyfish?


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Another day I call and never speak  
>  And you would say nothing's changed at all  
> And I can't feel much hope for anything  
> If I won't be there to catch you if you fall_
> 
> _Again  
>  It seems we meet  
> In the spaces  
> In between  
> We always say  
> It won't be long  
> But something's always wrong_

_ She watches through the window as they step back. One looks at the clock, and she knows what it means. It should be no surprise. She has known what will happen since she felt his blood on her hands, but the knowledge changes nothing. It cannot.  _

_ Screaming, she throws herself at the glass, slamming against it so hard that those inside look up, startled. Hands drag her back, arms pulling her away, and she kicks backward until she is pinned and bodily lifted from the ground. She hears a cry, full of grief and rage and utter desolation, and she knows that it is her own voice, already hoarse. She wants to let go, to lash out, but she knows if she does, she will not stop until there is nothing left. There is already too much inside her begging to be let free. It briefly escapes, and she hears a scream before she shoves it down. It claws as it goes, leaving gashes behind. The hands abruptly release her. She barely feels them let go as she is dropped to the floor, her legs buckling beneath her. _

_ She pulls inward instead, going so deep inside herself that she almost fears she will never find her way out again. She stands at the edge of an abyss. Its call is soothing. Inviting. She hears shouting around her, but it is only vague whispers. Shadows swirl around her, fleeting and useless. She hears nothing but the keening in her ears and the sweet, lethal call of the darkness beneath her. She screams her sorrow and her loss into its depths, and in turn, it bids her to enter. Slowly, deliberately, she snaps the tiny thread that holds her back and gives herself to oblivion. _

_ And suddenly, she is no longer falling. _

_ Arms encircle her, different than before. These arms are lean, strong, and she does not know them but feels that she should. They pull her from the edge and tighten around her, and she dimly feels words in her ear and slow heartbeats at her back. The darkness wails, its prize snatched from its jaws. She reaches out for it, and again it creeps forward with a snarl. The arms will not release her. At last, as if the darkness knows that this new creature is stronger and more vicious than it can ever be, it slinks away. She knows it is only waiting, but she is content to watch it go for now.  _

_ She is lifted and cradled like a child. She curls closer to the warmth, feeling the measured beat beneath her cheek. Her legs sway gently as she is carried. She is placed carefully in a chair, and she sits obediently. The arms leave for a moment; she reaches for them in the sudden chill. Instead, she feels a cool, damp cloth on her face, washing away the blood smeared on her cheeks and forehead. Her sleeves are gently pushed up, and the cloth moves to her hands and wrists, taking longer this time as they are more heavily stained. She wants to snatch it away, to scrub her skin with it until she bleeds, but she knows that if she does, she invites madness. Instead, she waits. She begins to shiver uncontrollably. _

_ The arms lift her, and she determines that they will not let go again. She twists her hand into the soft fabric against her face, pulling tightly. A few steps, and then she is settled. A blanket is wrapped around her, and after an eternity, the shaking begins to ease.  _

_ She breathes a scent. Ancient. Wild. A reminder of all that he is and is no longer, and at last she knows him. She rests in the circle of his arms, her fingers still tangled in his shirt, and suddenly the numbness begins to slip away. Panicked, she tries to hold on to it, but it follows the darkness almost gleefully, and reality seeps in to fill its place. She cries then, deep, racking sobs that shake her to her core, clinging to him as her heart breaks over and over. He does not hush her. He does not tell her it will be all right. He merely holds on while the storm rages, letting her tears soak his skin. She cannot tell how long it lasts, but when it is over, she is stripped, exhausted, and fragile as a dried flower. He gently sweeps the hair from her face, and his lips brush her temple. She is suddenly terrified that he means to leave her, and she knows she will not survive another loss so soon.  _

_ “Stay.” She doesn’t know if she whispers it, or merely thinks it. She traces her nails along his ribs and collarbone, fearing he will go and willing to do anything to keep him with her. He catches her hand, his fingers gentle but unyielding. _

_ “Don’t.” _

_ She clenches her fingers beneath his.  _

_ “You would hate yourself,” he says, his voice soft. “You would hate me, and I could not bear either one. Do not ask it of me.” _

_ “Stay,” she says again.  _

_ “I promise.” He shifts, and she lies down on her side. The room is dim. She has no idea where she is, and it does not matter. He curls behind her on the narrow bunk, pulling her tightly against him and covering them both with the blanket. She closes her eyes. His warmth wraps around her. She begins to drift, but the images come hard and fast, and she wakes with a start. He is there each time it happens, steady and soothing. After a time, he hums as he runs his fingers in a delicate pattern along her hairline. Words are buried within the melody. She does not understand them, but they slip into her mind, calming and caressing the ragged edges. At last she lets go once more, falling this time into a warm, peaceful sleep. _

_ When she next awakens, they are tangled together, and her whole body aches. She rolls over carefully, slipping an arm under his and along his back. He inhales and tightens his hold on her. His eyes open, and she can see in the brilliant blue how uncertain he is that he has done the right thing. She wishes she could smile at him, but it will not come. Instead, she closes her eyes, carefully memorizing how she feels in his arms. The moment will soon be only a memory, but it is one she knows she will need in the days to come. After a time, she reluctantly extricates herself from both him and the blanket and pushes up. She threads a hand through her hair, feeling the traces of dried blood still in the tangles.   _

_ He has pulled himself up as well, sitting with his back against the wall and forearms on his drawn up knees. She cannot think of what to say, so she rests her hand on his cheek, tracing his lower lip with her thumb. He turns his head and gently kisses her palm.  _

_ “We should go, if you can,” he says without moving his head. His lips tickle her skin. “You cannot hide forever. They will need you.” _

_ She nods and stands. It feels as though the skin has been ripped from her bones, and what is left hangs in shreds. She half expects to see holes in her shadow, watery on the floor in the faint lights. He unfolds himself from the cot and stands with her in front of the door. Her fingers are on the handle, but she cannot bring herself to move them. _

_ “Do not fear, Kindlesdaughter,” his voice comes from behind her. It is as though she hears the nickname for the first time, and she understands now that while his brother used it as a title, from him it is a sign of affection. Perhaps it always has been. His voice is quiet but strong. “You are not alone.” _

_ His words do not stop the pain. They barely soften it, but for now, it is enough. She wills strength into her hand, squares her shoulders, and walks out the door.  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the previous chapter are companion pieces. I didn't want to post them on a Monday, but the timing was poor. I want to be sorry, but I'm not. They've been written for months. Lyric by Toad the Wet Sprocket, and it was one of the prompts for the entire (what's turned out to be a) novel.
> 
> Have faith in me. The story's not over.
> 
> Please, please give feedback on these. They're an integral part of the story, and they were brutal to write. <3 (Also, please see my previous notes about posting when I'm a mess.)


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Barton has a gift, and Parker figures out the truth about his boss.

Upon leaving the room, Aeslin stopped as if unsure where to go. Loki simply waited in silence, but after merely standing in the hallway for a long moment, he realized that she had done as much as she could. He reached out and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. The cuff of her sleeve was stiff with blood, and it scratched gently on the inside of his wrist. First things first.

“You need fresh clothes,” he said. “Where do we find them?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and her brows lowered like she was trying to remember. She tightened her fingers around his. “Quartermaster,” she finally said, letting go of his hand. “Level three. This way.” She led him to a steep flight of stairs, and he climbed down after her. Leading him through a maze of hallways, they emerged near a fairly large room. A long table stretched across the space just past the doorway, and she pulled him in behind her.

“Requisitions, please,” Aeslin said to the man behind the counter. He slid two tablets to her, and she handed one to Loki. He had used one before, and he pressed his thumb into one corner. She took the tablet from him then, and did the requests for both of them, handing them back to the officer. He disappeared, then reappeared several moments later with two long bags. He handed the first to Aeslin and the other to Loki. Aeslin thanked him, then returned through the door. Loki followed carefully, dodging those scurrying to and fro in the hallways and trying not to bump into anyone.

“Locker room,” she said, suddenly turning left. They entered a long, narrow space which contained units similar to the one Loki had used while imprisoned. Walking into one of the shower bays, she closed the door behind her. Loki opened his case to find all the clothes he needed, plus toiletries. He showered quickly and emerged a few minutes before she did. He had been given a SHIELD uniform of sorts, and he saw that she wore the same thing. The only thing that remained of what she had been wearing was her boots. The uniform was black on black, and her face stood out, pale marble against midnight.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “For what you did.”

He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear; his hand stayed for a little longer than was necessary before he pulled it back. “Thank me when it’s over,” he replied.

“It might not be over for a long time.”

“I’ll wait.”

She nodded without speaking, and they went back out into the hallway. Aeslin seemed to have a general idea of where she was going, and Loki walked next to her as best he could in the narrow spaces. They had just climbed a set of stairs and were heading down yet another hallway when Loki heard Aeslin’s name being called. They turned back to see Barton working his way toward them.

“There you are,” he said to her. “I’ve been trying to find you. I should have just looked for you instead,” he said to Loki. “You’re much easier to find in a crowd. Lesson learned.” He shrugged a little. “Your jacket’s in the officer’s mess,” the agent went on. “The doctor wanted us to make sure you got it back.”

“That’s thoughtful of him,” Loki replied.

A slight grin. “Well, that’s not _exactly_ what he told us to tell you. I’m sort of paraphrasing.” He turned to Aeslin, and Loki could tell that he didn’t know quite what to say. “A Doctor Parker’s been asking for you, and there’s a briefing in fifteen minutes, operations room. Fury wants you both there.” He seemed to steel himself, then forged on. “They've finished processing Coulson's belongings.”

 _Damn._ Loki inwardly winced as she took a step back.

“No.” She was shaking her head. “I can't. Not now. Maybe never. I can't-”

Barton was already moving. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean it that way. Dammit.” The archer pulled her into a strong hug. “You don't have to do anything about it. Not one single thing. I promise.” He pulled back a little, forcing her to look him in the face.

“Say it,” he said.

“Not one thing,” she repeated quietly. “You promise.”

“It's not for you to worry about. All his things are sealed in his locker. But this is yours.”

The package was small; it didn't even cover Barton's palm. It had been expertly wrapped in sparkling blue paper, and Aeslin stared at it for a long time before she took it.

“No label,” she said.

“There was,” he replied. “I took it off.” He didn't say why, and she didn't ask. Her fingers curled around the box.

Aeslin’s voice was soft. “Other casualties?”

“Several, but less than there should have been. Lots of injuries, and a few missing.” Barton wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. “You did well.”

Like a sapling in a storm, Loki saw Aeslin waver for a split second. “You're wrong,” she said, “but thanks anyway.”

Barton ran his hand from her neck to her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “See you at the briefing.” He moved off down the hallway, and Aeslin watched him go with a look of increasing detachment that made Loki nervous. The package was still wrapped in her closed fingers. He stepped closer, resting his fingers in the small of her back.

“Can you open it?” he asked her, mostly to bring her back to focus. He thought he already knew the answer.

She shook her head, and the look faded a little. “Not now,” she said again, pushing the glimmering box into her jacket. “Maybe never.” She let out a long breath. “Let's go find Parker.”

Given a purpose now, Aeslin moved faster. The steel and marble returned, and she led Loki back down the stairs they had just climbed and aft toward the medical bay. They reached it in moments, and she opened the door. Parker looked up through the observation window and waved them further in, shoving goggles off his face as they came into the room. A mangled creature lay on the table in front of him, outlined in the harsh lights.

“H is for homeland,” he said in greeting. To Loki, Parker seemed to have aged in the time since he had seen the young doctor last. “We recovered the wreckage a few hours ago.”

Aeslin looked down, her face blank. “Looks an awful lot like what we found in Iceland.”

“Some differences, if I remember the scans correctly,” Parker amended. “They haven’t been able to recover much of our data yet; so I’m just going off what I remember. This one seems to have heavier armor, and it’s actually a lot bigger. It was built to take quite a bit of damage, I think.”

“What else have you found?” she asked.

“Not much. I was trying to find you first.” He looked up, and Loki was a little surprised at the intensity of his expression. “I heard what happened, and I wanted to give you the first shot at taking it apart.”

Sudden realization bloomed on her face.

“And just when I think I’ve got you figured out,” she said wryly. She seemed to weigh her options, then shook her head. “Much as I need to, I can’t.” Aeslin held up a hand for his protestations. “I understand why you did it, and you will never know how much it means to me. But you’re going to need speed, clarity and objectivity, and I can only guarantee you one of those. Get whatever help you need. Where’s Maris?”

“She’s with Scott. They’re waiting until we’ve been debriefed and he’s stable enough to move, and then they’re going to be medevaced. They’re both pretty shaken - him more than her, I think. But then, she got out, and he didn’t. Not right away.”

“It’s probably wise,” she observed. “When are you leaving?”

“They’re leaving,” Parker corrected her. “I’m not. I got authorization from Fury himself, and that, may I just say, is one terrifying man.”

“Are you _insane_?” she asked, taking a step toward him. “Do you not remember what just happened? Why the _hell_ would you ask to stay?!”

Parker folded his arms, his face unreadable. “Gosh. I _won_ der. Maybe because one of the only reasons I’m standing here _isn’t_ here, and because I _happen_ to think the _other_ reason deserves a little more than the sight of my ass as it gets on the first plane it can.”

Aeslin stared at him for a moment, then walked around the table. Slowly, deliberately, she took Parker’s face in her hands. “You stupid man,” she said. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “You stupid, beautiful man.”

Parker returned the hug, then pulled away. He gestured to Loki. “Besides, ten bucks says the intern sticks around. I can’t be the _only_ stupid one around here. And for your information,” Parker went on, “I _don’t_ remember most of it, and the parts I do remember, I kind of wish I didn’t. A few things stand out though. The gate blowing up, for one thing, which I think more and more had nothing to do with Coulson and everything to do with you.” He looked at her with a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. “How long have you been like them? Rogers? Banner?”

“Two months.” She sighed. “Too long. Maybe not long enough.”

“Long enough to make a difference,” the biologist replied.

She gave Parker the faintest of smiles. “Let’s hope so, ” she said.

Parker return smile was a little crooked. “Get going,” he told her. “You’re going to be late for your let’s be badasses briefing. Not that you need one.”

She shook her head, heading for the door. Loki and the scientist watched in silence as she made her way from the lab. Once she was out of sight, Loki reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded bill and holding it out between two fingers. Parker took it, barely glancing at it before tucking it away.

“That was a twenty.”

“Genetics.” Loki shrugged, his eyes still on the doorway where she had gone. “Not math.”

“ _Watch_ her,” Parker said. “I don’t like that look. I mean, what’s the saying? If you want revenge, start by digging two graves?”

“Oh, no.” Loki clapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder with what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he turned to follow her. “She’s going to need a _lot_ more than two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Parker dearly. He's one of my favorite creations of all time, and he just keeps getting better. 
> 
> Thank you for all the love. <3


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the walls come tumbling down, and Loki is 512% done. Or, how Loki discovers that the bogeyman is real.

Loki caught up with Aeslin in the corridor, and after a brief stop at the officer’s mess to retrieve his coat, they entered the heart of the helicarrier. The operations room buzzed with activity, which seemed to be centered around a woman with short, dark hair. She nodded to them, then indicated the room off to their right before turning her attention elsewhere.

They were the first ones in the room. Aeslin, too keyed up to sit, contented herself with pacing back and forth. Others trickled in, taking seats, including the woman from the operations center. Loki recognized most of the others from his time in New York. Fury came last, closing the door behind him.

“By now,” he began, “I’m pretty sure you all know what happened down at the Warehouse. I’ll spare you the rehash, besides to say that it’s is a complete loss. The failsafes acted appropriately, except for the fact that several of the intruders managed to get out before the walls came down. Through preparation, evacuation and some sheer luck, we managed to get most of our people out, as well.” Loki saw him glance over at Aeslin, but she was staring at her feet, her hands in the pockets of the borrowed jacket. She seemed not to hear him, and the detached look had returned. “Most,” Fury repeated as he looked around the room. “There are also a few missing. We believe they’re hostages.

“We’ve recovered the body of one of the intruders, and it’s being analyzed as we speak. Preliminary reports indicate that it’s roughly the same species as the one found in Iceland.”

“Hostages?” Rogers asked. “How do we know they’re alive?”

“We don’t,” admitted Fury. “But we have reason to believe they are, and that they’re needed somehow.” He tapped the table, and video appeared on the screen behind him. “We’ve also managed to recover the feed from the dark matter lab.”

The images were remarkably clear, and Loki could see every detail. A group of scientists worked at one end, with an apparatus set up near the middle of the room. It began to glow fitfully, and there was an accompanying rush of activity near the consoles around which the scientists clustered. Loki heard faint voices, and then there was a sudden burst of light that whitened the screen for a moment. When it cleared, he saw a wormhole at the end of the room. He stared for a moment, and then creatures started coming through it in pairs. Loki narrowed his eyes, noticing how they moved and seemed to communicate without even needing to look at one another. Unconsciously, he took a step away from the wall, wanting to see closer.

The creatures spread out across the room, and there were blasts of energy and faint screams. Suddenly, as one, they stopped, coming to attention where they stood. Something else was coming through the hole. Tall. Cloaked. Hooded. Six fingers on the grey-skinned hands. It carried what looked like a short staff.

A violent shock tore through Loki’s body. His heart clenched, and for a split second he was afraid it had burst.

 _::_ Good morning, little princeling. _::_

His body took over, and he stumbled backward against the wall, unable to take his eyes off the screen.

 _::_ Did you sleep well? _::_

A strangled, tiny noise escaped his throat as he clawed his way along the wall toward the door, wrenching it open so hard he felt the skin of his knuckles break. Loki barely made it out of the doorway before he felt a memory of pain sear through his body, lancing through his nerves to the very tips of his fingers. He fell to his knees, his stomach clenching, and for a brief, incongruous moment he was wildly glad it had been hours since he had eaten. He shoved down the nausea. The pain was gone almost as quickly as it had come, leaving white sparks behind his eyelids. He sucked in breaths, aware that everyone on the operations deck had fallen silent. He kept his eyes closed, and a cacophony of images rushed across the blackness, each worse than the one before it. They giggled and clawed and filled the empty spaces, and he heard a voice whispering over and over. It sounded like a prayer, or a plea from a child in the dark. He realized after a moment that it was his own.

A cool hand pressed the back of his neck, and the noise level in the room gradually picked up again. He sensed her next to him, but he couldn’t look up, or even open his eyes. As he had done for her, she merely waited in silence, fingertips rubbing in a gentle half-circle on the nape of his neck. Loki found it easier to breathe as the moments went on, and as his lungs slowed, he felt a cold rage begin to take the place of panic. He reached up, covering her hand with his own. He pulled her fingers from his neck, then squeezed them gently. Letting go, he pushed himself up and forced himself back through the door of the briefing room. She was close on his heels, and he heard her close the door softly.

 _Not a dream. None of it._ His arm throbbed with a gentle, remembered ache. He clenched his fingers to keep from rubbing it.

Everyone in the room turned to him. Fury raised an eyebrow. “If we’re done with the theatrics,” he said, “perhaps we can continue.”

“Shut up.” Loki stalked to the display, ignoring the director’s look. Tapping the screen, he backed up the feed to a clear shot of the leader. He looked at for a second, his stomach twisting, and he forced down the panic that threatened to resurface.

“Someone you know?” Rogers.

“Yes.”

Fury spoke. “We questioned you after we took custody. You were with the team in Iceland.” His voice grew harder. “You told Coulson you didn’t know what they were.”

Loki glared at the director. “I thought it a dream. A nightmare brought on by the Void. Now I see I was mistaken.” He took a step back from the screen. “I spoke the truth, as I knew it. I saw no soldiers. I saw no ships. I knew nothing of this. All I knew was the dark. The cold. The pain. And him.” He forced his words out past the tightening in his chest.

“I don’t know his name. I don’t even know if he has one. He calls himself the Other.”

Romanoff’s voice was quiet. “What did he do to you?”

Loki met her eyes across the table, and what he saw there stopped what he had meant to say. In that second, he understood more about her than he had likely any right to. She didn’t deserve the lie on his tongue, so he discarded it without a thought and spoke the truth. “Anything he wanted. Whenever he wanted.”

She looked away at that, and Loki turned back to Fury, mentally shoving at the images that threatened to climb back into his skull. “He answers to no one but his master. They were looking for something.”

Banner spoke from his spot at the table. “I’m just going to hazard a guess, here, but I think they found it.” He looked at Fury curiously, and the director nodded.

“They have it,” he confirmed. “Along with Dr. Selvig, another physicist and two of our top agents.”

“Have _what_?” Loki asked, his patience shredding.

Fury’s eye narrowed. “The Tesseract. We found it, and after some pretty strenuous negotiations, we were allowed to keep it in exchange for giving Odin a place to dump your sorry ass.”

“It was _here_?” Loki thought of Coulson, standing in the biogenetics lab with his hands in his pockets. “The wormhole,” he said, understanding at last. A sudden bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to creep out as the pieces fell together. “Is _that_ all you think it does?”

“I thought it was lost,” Rogers said. He seemed angry.

“It was recovered several decades ago,” Fury said. “Ironically, on one of the sweeps Stark did to find you. And no,” he continued with a slight sneer as he turned back to Loki. “We know it does more than that.” He looked back at the screen, deliberately making the Other’s image bigger. “Pretty convenient, though. How you didn’t remember anything until _after_ they got what they came for.”

The statement hit Loki like a slap. _Enough_. The others in the room dropped into insignificance as he faced Fury. His voice was ice.

“That thing found me after my _father_ -” he almost spat the word - “dropped me into the Void. I drifted for weeks before he found me. He offered me power. Glory. An army the likes of which I had never imagined, to do with as I pleased. And all I had to do was answer one simple question. When I could not answer, he did not believe me. So he asked again. And again. And again, until I begged for a death he would not give. When I woke in your cell, I thought it a trick. A lie. Then a dream. I thought myself free, but it turned out that I had exchanged one prison for another, to be held at the whim of the father who had left me to the darkness in the first place. I waited at his pleasure for months, and when the time came, death was not enough for him, either. He stripped me of everything I had and left me to _you._ A fate worse than any death he could imagine.” He felt his voice getting louder, but Loki was beyond caring. “And what did you do with me? _Nothing_. I was ignored. I was _tolerated_. You had to be told that I might be worthwhile before you would even _allow_ me to offer the scraps Odin had left. And _still_.” He slammed the table with a fist, shattering the screen beneath and making those nearest him jump. “Still, it is not enough. _I_ am not enough. Even for you.” He lowered his voice, his gesture taking in the screen, the room, and his own mortal body. “Perhaps, at the last, I misunderstand your language, Director. So pray, tell me. Exactly what, in all this, has been _convenient_?”

The room was dead silent for a moment before Fury spoke, his voice little more than an angry whisper.

“Do you want back in that prison?”

Disbelief and anger rushed through Loki as he pointed to the screen. “ _T_ _hat_ is coming for you, and he will bring an army with him. He and his master do not want a mere invasion. They will come to conquer, and with the power they now carry, if you cannot stop them, they will destroy your realm and move on to the next without pausing to wipe your ashes from their feet. You saw what they did to me. What they made of me, when I had powers far beyond your comprehension, and long before Odin left me with nothing. Do you honestly think your race will fare better? That they will be more merciful to _you_?”

Fury gave no reply, and Loki felt a sudden weariness. There was no good answer, and they both knew it. SHIELD’s director regarded him critically, as if unsure whether to continue the conversation or throw him out a window. “Are you done?” he finally asked.

Loki shook his head, resigned. “That is your enemy,” he said again, glancing up at the Other as he turned away from the director. “Not me. Believe me or not. I no longer care.” Finished at last, he resumed his spot next to Aeslin against the back wall. None of the others in the room looked at him, and each ignored the broken glass on the table. Another time, in another life, Loki might have found it insulting, but now he saw it for what it was. A silent kindness, and in that moment, surrounded by near-strangers, Loki suddenly felt a little less alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that it's sort of going wham, bam, super dark all of a sudden, but I feel as though that's how life goes sometimes, and that's part of the point. Don't worry. There are good things coming, and the fluff will remain as possible. Like I said, the story's not over yet. <3
> 
> Feedback appreciated, as always. Thanks! :)


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki becomes a part of something more.

Fury started the feed again in the silence, and it showed the creature striding through the dark matter lab. He approached Selvig and some others that were still standing, and after a moment, each seemed to calm. Selvig retrieved the glowing blue cube, slipping it into a large case, which he closed and carried with him. There was another flash, and the image was briefly lost. When it again cleared, the room was empty save for a few bodies on the floor and alarm lights on the walls. Fury shut off the feed.

“How did they get out?” Rogers asked.

Fury seemed to deflate a little. “From what we can tell, the scepter this thing carries is capable of projecting illusions. In short, they evacuated with everyone else. Right into one of our helos.”

A dubious look. “You’re telling me that thing just happens to know how to fly a helicopter?”

“He wouldn’t have to,” Barton said, scrolling back through the feed. He indicated one of the men on the screen. “Rumlow does.”

“Well.” Rogers folded his arms. “That’s convenient.” He realized what he said a second too late, and he glanced at Loki with an apologetic look. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it like that.” Loki lifted his shoulders fractionally in acknowledgement; Rogers turned back to Fury.

“Most of the intruders were left inside to clear out the Warehouse, but more than likely it was just to keep us busy,” the director continued. “We were able to retrieve those in the lab and get them out before it all came down, but two have since succumbed to their injuries. Only one additional creature managed to make it out of the building, and by now it should be in pieces in one of the medical bays.

“We’ve got eyes all over the world, and we’re on high alert. There’s no indication as to where they’re going to surface, and we need to be ready.” Here he paused. “I’ve been authorized to reactivate the Avengers Initiative.”

“I thought that had been scrapped,” Banner said.

“Indefinite hold,” replied Fury. “I’ve contacted Stark, and he’s incoming. We’ll be calling a separate briefing when he gets here.” He paused. “I’m not going to give you individual assignments. Work together, but play to your strengths. We need to find a way to stop them, wherever they show up. Be ready,” he said again, glancing around the room. “You’re dismissed.”

Nods around the room, and then there was a general shuffle as people stood to leave. They filed out the door, until the only ones left in the room were Fury, Aeslin and Loki. She hadn’t moved from where she stood, leaning against a display with legs crossed at the ankle and hands still in her pockets. Loki wondered how much of the briefing had actually registered with her. She looked up at the director.

“I want in.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked.

“You're going to build a team with a gamma-radiated monster, a narcissist and a man who might very well bleed red, white _and_ blue, and you’re questioning _my_ judgment?”

Fury sighed. “You know what I’m talking about. Phil’s death was a hit for everyone, but for you…” he trailed off. “I can’t even fathom where your mind’s at right now.”

“Don’t bother trying,” she said. “It’s not important, anyway, and it will be even less so if we’re annihilated. I have what you need. I’m as good or better than anyone who was in this room, and you know it.” Her voice broke a little. “Phil knew it. If you don’t believe me, then believe him. I’ve earned this, Nick. You know I have. And on the plus side, large scale devastation makes for great therapy.”

There was almost a fondness in Fury’s face as he looked at Aeslin. “Is that your medical opinion?”

Her answer seemed automatic, like part of a ritual. “You don’t pay me for the other kind.”

Fury looked at her for a moment. “Be careful.”

“Always.”

The director then turned to Loki with a guarded look. “I guess I don’t even need to ask what you want. Not after that performance.”

“It’s a short list,” Loki replied, ignoring the jab. “And _extremely_ specific.”

Fury looked at him for a long minute. “I don’t want to believe you,” he said at last. “I don’t want to trust you, either, and I sure as hell don’t want to admit that I was wrong about you. Too bad it seems like I might not have much of a choice, provided this goes where you say it will. And if it does...” A sigh. “Get out before I change my mind, or at least before you break anything else.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's super short, I know, but I will probably post another later today. Let me know if you're interested.
> 
> We're now crossing over into Avengers movie territory, and although there will be some things you'll recognize from the film, please also be aware that it's still an AU, so it's not going to be super matchy-matchy. Just thought I'd warn any purists out there. :D
> 
> Thanks for all the love!


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki struggles with guilt and Bruce gets an idea.

The door slammed behind them, and Loki and Aeslin left the operations deck quickly. He walked next to her with his head down; he was almost afraid to blink. He kept his mind away from the images that had raked through it, and although he was successful, he didn’t like where it went instead. He realized that she was taking him back to the medical bay, but he was surprised to see that they didn’t go toward the area where he knew Parker was likely still working. He followed her into a room a little smaller than his cell had been. The lights came on as they entered.

“Have a seat on the table,” she said, taking off her jacket and walking to a small sink. He heard water splash. “I need to look at your hand.”

He looked down automatically, noticing for the first time the blood that spiderwebbed across the skin. “It’s nothing,” he said. “I’ll be all right.”

“Glass isn’t nothing,” she replied, “and I am in no mood to argue. Please. Sit down.”

He obeyed, slipping off his own jacket and sitting as she pulled on some gloves. The liquid she dabbed from wrist to fingertips stung badly, and he sucked in air through clenched teeth.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It will start working in a minute. I should have warned you.”

“It’s fine,” he repeated. A cool numbness was already starting to spread across the back of his hand. He watched her bent head as she prodded gently with a gloved finger and then pulled over a large magnifying glass. She lifted a set of tweezers from the tray at her elbow.

“I didn't know,” he said, needing her to believe him.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason you didn’t,” she said, dropping a sliver of glass onto the tray and going back for another. “I mean, with the amount of damage-” she stopped herself and put another piece of glass into the tray with a faint _clink_. Another soon followed. “He may have erased your memories, or at least hidden them. _You_ may have erased your memories. It’s not unheard of. Besides, you told me yourself; very little is real in the Void. They asked how you were hurt, and you never did make sense. Your answers were different from one day to the next, and you swore that every one was true. After a while, they stopped asking. You couldn’t tell them what you didn’t know.” She gave his hand a final inspection, then swabbed it again. She stretched small white strips across his knuckle and over the larger wound. “How does that feel?” she asked, pushing the magnifier away.

He flexed his hand and was rewarded with only a slight tingle. He was bothered that there wasn't more pain. It didn't seem right that his wound would be fixed so quickly when hers would stay for so long. “Better,” he said. “I think.”

She picked up the tray with its bloodied gauze and broken slivers, depositing it and her gloves into a slot on the wall behind her, then washed her hands again. When he didn't move from where he sat, she rolled her chair back over to the table and looked up at him.

“I should have known,” Loki said, still staring at his hand. “It was right there in front of me. I failed him. I failed _you_.”

She shook her head, dropping her gaze to the floor. “You didn’t,” she finally said, and there was so much hurt and loss in those two words that Loki regretted opening his mouth, but found he could not stop the next words from tumbling out.

“But what if it could have saved him?”

She was suddenly very still, her head bowed. It was difficult to speak, but he swallowed and went on.

“Maybe I could have saved you, too.”

Her hands slid around his, her grip strong and only a little gentle. She shoved the stool back and stood. “Stop,” she said. “Stop _right_ there and listen to me very, very carefully.” They were eye level, and he could see the tears that had traced their way down her cheeks and onto the neck of her shirt. The light caught her eyes; they looked like the sky before a storm. “You did not fail him. You did not fail _me_. Nothing you could have said or done or remembered would have changed a single thing.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I _do_ know that. Because I know _him_. He knew what he was doing, and he knew what it might cost, and he did it anyway. In that moment, he knew he might be the only thing that stood in the way, and that’s exactly where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be. Where he always was, when it mattered. And even knowing that it meant the end, he would have done nothing different. _Nothing._ ” A small sound, halfway between a laugh and sob. “I’m not sure he knew how. He made his own choice, Loki, and that is not a weight you have to carry.”

He looked down at their hands. “But what has his choice done to you?”

Her voice was quiet. “That's not your burden, either.”

Loki said nothing, and after a moment, she stroked her thumb over the bandage on his hand without looking at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

_Your brother died before your eyes less than a day ago. Your grief pulls at you like a riptide. Sorrow and darkness on your heels like a pack of wolves, and you stop to make sure I'm all right. Shut up, you little fool. Just shut up and keep running._

Loki took one of her hands in his. “No,” he said instead. “Words will only make it worse. It's still quite jumbled and confused, and it needs to stay that way at least long enough for me to construct a few walls.” She glanced up, and he gave her a tiny smile as he touched his temple. “They won't be perfect, but they'll do. And when this is all over,” he continued, squeezing her fingers a little, “ask me again.” He grew more serious. “Do you want to?”

She shook her head and seemed about to say something when there was a knock on the door frame. Banner poked his head into the room.

“Sorry,” the man said, “but I’ve got an idea, and I need some brains.” He gestured vaguely around himself. “Not all these average brains.  Good brains. Your brains. Meet me in the lab, will you? I'm gonna find the other guy.” Banner flapped a hand helplessly. “Not the _other_ guy other guy. I mean the other guy. The kid. Your kid. Not _your_ kid. You know what? Forget it. I'll see you in a minute. Five minutes. Soon.”

“We'll be there,” Aeslin told him, but Banner was already on his way, his footsteps tapping on the metal deck. She looked back at Loki, but whatever else she had meant to say was gone, washed away by Banner’s interruption. The mood became lighter somehow, and he tightened his fingers around hers a last time before letting go.

“Explain to me, if you would,” said Loki as he pulled on his jacket, “how every time that man opens his mouth, I somehow like him better.”

“He's Bruce,” she replied as though it answered everything. “It's pretty hard _not_ to.”

“Who else was he looking for?”

She looked at him curiously, and Loki elaborated. “The other guy. The one not Parker.”

“Oh,” she said with a slight face. “ _That_ one. I'll let Banner tell you about him.”

“Not as pleasant as the doctor, then?”

Her lip twitched as they started a flight of stairs. “You could say that.”

 


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude: The debriefing, or: Maria Hill attempts unsuccessfully to herd cats.  
> (aka: In which Loki is a little snot, Kindle's got a mouth like a sailor, and if one more person messes with Hill's clipboard, an alien invasion will be the _least_ of Fury's problems.)

From: Hill, Maria

To: Fury, Nicholas J

RE: Whitebridge Incident

Lvl: [unregistered/personalcorr]

 

/Per your request. Transcript highlights below. Official post-incident psychosocial evals on hold pending resolution of alien invasion currently in progress. Each participant was interviewed separately; excerpts have been combined for clarity.//

 

_Thank your for your statement, Dr. Kindle. Just a few more questions. You do realize that your actions at the Warehouse were directly responsible for saving three lives, and indirectly for dozens more?_

AK: I also realize that my actions are directly responsible for the loss of one very important life. Isn’t that why we’re here?

_Not necessarily, although I note in your statement that you take full responsibility for Agent Coulson’s death. Can you elaborate?_

JP: She what? Give me that.

ML: Are you [redacted] me? You’re [redacted] me.

AK: I could have saved him.

_You’re referring to your enhancement._

AK: Such a delightful euphemism. But yes.

_You believe you could have stopped your pursuer. Assuming that’s true, why didn’t you?_

AK: It would have been defying a direct order from my superior. There was the general order not to engage, yes. But mine was much more specific. We - he didn’t know what we were up against, and I had other responsibilities. He refused to throw an untested ‘enhanced’ against an invading force when he didn’t have enough information. We had no idea how many there were. We had no idea where they were coming from. We didn’t even know what they were. He activated the failsafe protocols, and we went to work.

_Then what happened?_

JP: She went back. I didn’t know why until we found them again. I think we were the last ones out.

_What were your other responsibilities, if not offensive? Why couldn’t you do both?_

AK: It takes concentration and deliberate action. I have to be paying a lot of attention when it’s active, and he needed someone to drive so he could focus on his part. I couldn’t do both, so I didn’t fight him. I did what he asked me to do.

_Will you repeat that for me?_

AK: Absolutely not. This is an interrogation, not a therapy session.

_It’s not an interrogation._

LL: If you say so.

_So you’re sure you couldn’t do both._

AK: I almost lost control when I blew the gate. It was too much to handle. I couldn’t risk it - not with the others in the car.

_Were you aware of Dr. Kindle’s abilities prior to these events?_

ML: Her what?

JP: No.

LL: Yes.

_And how did you find out?_

LL: I picked a fight. I lost.

_Does that happen often?_

LL: I fail to see how that’s relevant.

_According to every other person in the vehicle, your actions were in no way contributory to Agent Coulson’s death. This has been corroborated by the results of -_

AK: Cardiac arrest. Massive blood loss from shrapnel. The grenade exploded prematurely after it was struck by an energy blast fired by the hostile. They hit at the same time, and the combination of the two shredded the side of the car. There was no way anyone could have survived what happened to him. The body of the vehicle was armored, which is why the ones in the back were all right. They were protected, at least until the windows went. His was already down, and he had little to no shielding.

 _You’ve read the report_.

AK: I don’t need a [redacted] report. I was there. I’m there every time I close my [redacted] eyes. I couldn’t protect him because I didn’t know how, and I didn’t have time to figure it out while we were trying to keep everyone else in one piece. He wasn’t shielded, and he’s dead. I wasn’t either, and I walked away. Do you know why?

 _Tell me_.

AK: Because he knew he was the only thing between me and what he saw coming, and he did the best thing he could think of.

_Which was?_

AK: He got in the way, and then he stayed there.

_How do you know?_

AK: Because he told me. Don’t you get it? _He told me_. It was one of the last things he _ever_ told me. So don’t sit there in your [redacted] chair with your [redacted] clipboard and [redacted] try to convince me that it’s not my fault. Because I’m the reason he’s dead. No one else.  No _thing_ else. Me.

_Dr. Kindle, we’re not finished._

AK: I disagree.

_Where did you take her?_

LL: A duty locker, though I didn’t know what it was called until later. The details weren’t important at the time. She needed to be elsewhere. It wasn’t safe where she was.

_She was safe._

LL: Yes. _She_ was.

_You were asked to leave._

LL: I wouldn’t really call that ‘asking’.

_The situation was under control._

LL: You might want to mention that to the man whose face she broke from across the room. He’ll very likely have quite a different opinion. Provided, of course, that he can still talk. It didn’t look promising from where I stood.

_It looked worse than it was._

LL: Of course. I was just at the wrong angle.

_Did she say anything to you?_

LL: Nothing of consequence.

_It might be important._

LL: Did she tell you?

_Dr. Kindle’s interview was… interrupted._

JP: We’re allowed to do that?

 _No_.

LL: Then it wasn’t for you to hear.

_How’s your hand, by the way?_

LL: Fine, thank you. How’s the table?

_Not fine._

LL: More’s the pity. Will that be all?

 

/No additional pertinent information obtained. Follow-up interviews not recommended at this time.// mh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legend:  
> JP: Joshua Parker - exobiology  
> ML: Maris Lindsay - metallurgy  
> AK: Aeslin Kindle - epidemiology and project management  
> LL: Loki Laufeyson - biogenetics intern, involuntary expat, beer pong champion and reigning God Emperor of Catan (bloodless coup pending)
> 
> (Fun fact: Aeslin doesn't know she broke a guy's face, and everyone who saw (including the guy she damaged) basically took a vote and agreed to take it to their graves. She's got enough to worry about.)
> 
> (Oy. What a weekend. Feedback appreciated. Hugs appreciated. Piles of puppies appreciated. (seriously, guys. This is when I start throwing everything I've ever written onto the interwebs and yell SOMEONE LOVE ME because real life is KICKING MY ASS.))


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Involving dreams, geographical minutiae, and a little too much testosterone for one room.

_He walks along the edge of the gardens with Frigga, the sun hot on his back. They talk of everything and nothing, and he feels at peace in her presence. Distant thunder, more felt than heard, echoes along the stones. “A storm,” she says. “The rain will be welcome.” They reach the gated arch that stands across the path, and she pushes it open and walks through. He follows, but as the door closes behind him, he knows something has changed._

_He stands again in the center of the SHIELD training room. His mother is gone, and in her place stand the silent shadows. They circle around him, and again he moves, his body flowing through the darkness like a shade. He wades through the ghostly figures; they shatter before him. His feet are soundless on the cold floor._

_A presence behind him. He whirls, his arm coming up, and in the last seconds, as he did once before, he sees her face. Only this time, his hand will not stop._

_And this time, the knife is real._

Loki woke suddenly, gasping for air. His tablet clattered off the workspace where he had fallen asleep, head pillowed on one arm. Parker turned from the workstation across the room. He held Banner's hastily written instructions in one hand as he worked a display with the other. With the necropsy complete, Parker had agreed to help the other two calibrate the thousands of sensors Banner had commandeered in his hunt for the Tesseract's residual energy. The three of them had been at it for what seemed like days, and they had been trading off catnaps during the long hours. The dream still vivid in his mind, Loki looked around, panicked. Aeslin was nowhere to be seen.

“Kindle,” he said roughly, surprised that his voice worked.

“Over in one of the exam rooms,” Parker replied. “Someone needed stitches in. Stitches out? Staples.” He rubbed his forehead. “Hell, I don't know anymore. She should be back soon. Are you okay? You look awful.”

Forcing his breath to slow, Loki nodded. “I’m fine.”

Parker looked skeptical, but he merely went back to his work. “You've still got a while before I give this beast back to you,” he said. “Might be a good time to get some coffee. Take a walk. Punch someone in the face.”

“That last one doesn’t seem to be as helpful as the others,” Loki replied.

“All depends on who it is,” returned Parker. “And if I see the words 'signal lost' one more time in the next ten minutes, I plan on trying it out. Just a heads up.”

“I'll be careful,” Loki said.

“Not you.” He glanced over. “I know when I'm outmatched.”

“I wouldn’t retaliate. It would be for a good cause.” Loki picked up the tablet from the floor and put it carefully back onto the workbench.

Parker laughed. “Who said I was worried about what _you_ would do?” He turned back to the display, eyes flicking between the readout and his cheat sheet.

Loki stood, more to finish shaking off the dream than any real need. “I think I will get some air. I'll be back.”

He left down the now-familiar hallway, resisting the urge to go below to the medical bays. Instead, he worked his way upward to the flight deck. The air was thin, but not unbearably so. Loki breathed in the wind and cold and let them wash the remaining images away. He was learning to dread any sort of sleep, and he wondered how long it would take before it would be welcome again. He carefully replaced the nightmarish image with a much different one of her, choosing the moment that he had seen her on the landing pad just before returning to Asgard.

He spent a few more minutes on the deck, then turned back to the relative warmth of the helicarrier's interior. He returned to the lab where Parker was working, noticing that Banner had arrived in his absence. Loki nodded to the man; he was learning that he genuinely liked the physicist, with his scattered brilliance and infinite patience. Banner was looking over Parker's work, and he was clearly impressed.

“I just think that you might be in the wrong discipline,” Banner was saying to Parker. “It's worth looking into, at least.”

Parker shook his head. “No offense, but I think your line of work is a little too risky for me.”

“Says the astrobiologist on the eve of a possible alien invasion,” Banner replied, lifting an eyebrow. “Although I guess you could make a pretty good argument for job security.” He turned to Loki. “Anything?”

A quick glance. “New Mexico’s back online,” Loki told him, his fingers moving easily over the workspace against the wall. “Still missing most of…” he glanced at his notes. “Texas?”

“Oklahoma.”

“There's a difference?”

“Ask a Texan sometime,” Banner said, coming over to the workstation. “And call me _right_ before you do.”

Loki looked over at Parker for help, but the biologist just grinned. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “My money’s on the other guy.”

Banner made some adjustments and moved away, picking up the conversation with Parker again. Loki resumed his seat at the station. Hearing a voice in the hallway, he glanced through the window to the passage just in time to see Aeslin come into view. She had one hand to her ear, and her steps slowed as she waved to someone out of his line of sight. Loki felt the last of his tension drain away as he saw that she was alive, well, and apparently a little irritated.

“No,” she was saying as she came into the room, clearly in the middle of a discussion. “I literally just came from there. Tell him to quit messing with it.” A pause. “What, is he five? It will kick in any time now. Just put socks on his hands.” Another silence. “Well, those are his options. Does he want an ear, or doesn’t he?” Resting a hip on one of the displays, Aeslin gave Loki a weak grin while listening to the reply, and he could see in her face how much it was costing her to sound completely normal. “No,” she said. “It’s Reynolds. I don’t think we _can_ assume that.” She looked up at the door, where Stark was coming in. “I need to go. No, just let him know that if I have to come back down there, it’s not going to be pretty.” She tapped the earpiece off, tossing it onto Loki’s workstation and rubbing her temple.

“Something wrong?” asked Stark.

“Nothing that restraints and a thorazine drip wouldn’t fix.”

A wicked grin. “Sounds like my kind of problem.”

“Yes,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “Oddly enough, it does.”

He saluted her with the bag in his hand and walked over to where Parker was finishing up his shift under Banner’s direction. Loki had just turned back to his own work when he heard a very familiar tread in the hallway. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to thump his head onto the desk in front of him as the first part of his dream suddenly made perfect sense.

He opened them again as his brother stormed through the doorway, cloak swirling behind him. Thor stopped a few feet into the room, pointing with his hammer at Loki; his full attention, however, was on Aeslin.

“What is he doing here?” Thor asked, Mjolnir inches from Loki's face.

Aeslin folded her arms. “Last time I checked, he knew all his words,” she said with a faint drawl. “Why don't you ask him?”

His brother stepped forward; she gave no ground. “The director tells me that Loki's presence here isn't his own doing. It's yours. So I will ask again. What is he doing here?”

“Well, the director’s wrong. And he’s working.”

“Do _not_ toy with me, woman. Answer the question.”

Loki could sense Parker bristling from where he sat; he caught the biologist's eye and shook his head fractionally. A quick glance back at Aeslin, and he saw that the green in her eyes had faded almost completely away. She stepped forward and took Thor's arm. Her voice had cooled to a degree that Loki knew quite well, and she started toward the door, almost dragging his brother behind her.

“Would you gentlemen excuse us for just a moment?” she asked with exaggerated politeness. Loki gestured silently, keeping his face carefully neutral.

Stark wasted no time. “Jarvis.”

“Sir?”

“Get me a visual. This I've got to see.”

Banner looked at him askance. “I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be a private conversation.”

“No such thing,” Stark said, popping a blueberry into his mouth. “But since for once this probably isn't about me...” He glanced at Loki, who nodded.

“Get the feed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated. I'm always curious to see how well I write established characters while still putting my own spin on them. :)


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor's been out of the loop, and Aeslin has had it up to _here_.

“Working,” Jarvis said. Only a moment passed before one of the workstation displays was replaced by an image of Aeslin and his brother. Thor had dropped the hammer on the table between the two of them and stood with his arms folded.

“Have you lost your senses, girl?” He was asking. “Why is he here?”

“Why are _you_ here?” she retorted. “Why now? We tried to reach you for weeks without so much as static electricity.”

“Loki’s actions left the realms in chaos,” replied Thor. “Odin gave me the charge of restoring order, and it has taken - _is_ taking - quite some time.”

“Then what brings you here now?” Aeslin repeated.

“Odin sensed a great surge of power from your world again,” replied his brother. “He believed that the Tesseract had been used, and I was sent to determine what had happened.”

“Oh,” she said. “So we're allowed to keep it, provided that we don't actually try to _use_ it.”

“You have no idea what it's truly capable of.”

“And you do?”

“Yes,” replied Thor. “And so does my brother.”

“So?”

Parker's glanced at Loki, a sudden light coming on. “Hold on. That's your brother?” He looked at the display. “That?” A look back at Loki. “I don't see it.”

Loki shrugged, his eyes flicking from the screen to the other man. “I'm adopted.”

“At _last_ ,” Parker said with a sort of relief. “Something about you that makes sense.”

“What is that supposed to-” Loki began, but was immediately shushed by both Stark and Banner. Loki looked at the physicist with eyebrows raised, only to be answered by what he assumed was supposed to be a quieting hand gesture. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the screen.

His brother had taken a step forward, shaking his head with a slight look of disbelief. “ _-_ that all you have to say? One does not ask a viper to help find a nest of scorpions, and yet that is precisely what you have done. You seek to recover one of the most powerful forces in the universe, and in order to do so you bring a banished son of Odin who knows _exactly_ what to do with it once it’s found. Are you truly that blind? Can you not see what he's doing?”

Loki could feel Parker's eyes on him again, but this time, he refused to meet his stare.

“I know what he's doing,” she replied coldly, “I don’t need you to tell me. And I have to say, it's a damn sight more than what _you've_ done lately.”

“He cannot be trusted.”

“Says you.”

“You don't know him like I do.”

“That's probably accurate.”

“You come closer than most,” he continued, “and your insights were keen. But this is far beyond you now. The Tesseract is loose, and if he can but claim it...” Thor shook his head. “You think yourself wise, but he is old and clever. Loki builds plans like webs, just waiting for the right string to be tugged, and even you can be caught. He knows what he wants, and he will say - or do - whatever he has to in order to get it.”

Loki’s stomach dropped.

A second's hesitation. “You're wrong,” she said. Her jaw clenched.

“Are you willing to risk your world, only to find out I’m not?”

“Since when do you care about my world?”

Thor looked at her with surprise. “We have great concern about your Realm.”

“No,” she said. “You don't. You have 'great concern' for the Tesseract. Our Realm has nothing to do with it.”

“Not true.”

“Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a little different. Your father considers this world a waste. A punishment. He literally _cannot_ think of anything more demeaning or excruciating than being forced to live on it and to be one of us. We sent message after message asking for help _weeks_ ago, and we heard nothing. It's only now that Odin has a stake in all this that you were even sent here. He has no use for our insignificant little world with our insignificant little problems, and frankly, you're not much better.

“Loki is no longer Asgard's concern. He no longer belongs to _any_ of you. Odin lost any claim he had the minute he left him to die on that rooftop. Whether you trust him or not is no longer relevant. Besides, you said it yourself less than ten minutes ago. You have _much_ more important things to worry about. More important things to do.” She took a step towards his brother, picking up Mjolnir from the table between them. “So why don't you take your _swoopy_ little cape and your _stupid_ little hammer-” here she jammed it into his unresisting hand, “and go do them?” Without waiting for a response, she turned and stalked out of the room.

In the silence of the lab, Stark and Banner stared at Loki, who was keenly aware that he was wearing the same idiotic expression as his brother. Parker looked at the display, then at the others.

“I missed something. What did I miss?”

Stark began telling him, but went silent as her footsteps sounded in the hallway. She stopped in the doorway, immediately noticing that every pair of eyes was on her.

 _“What_?” she asked, clearly furious. When she got no answer from any of them, she threw up her hands in irritation and continued stomping down the corridor. A minute later, from far above, Loki heard a door slam.

***

Loki was already standing in the hallway when Thor returned. As his brother tried to make his way past him to where Aeslin had gone, Loki spoke.

“I wouldn’t.”

Thor looked at him, sudden understanding on his face. “You saw.”

“Yes.”

“Then you know why I must speak with her.”

“In the mood she’s in? I would wait. Otherwise she might prove her worthiness again by snatching Mjolnir from your very hand and beating you senseless with it. Which, while amusing, wouldn’t actually be productive.”

“Then I need to speak with Fury.”

Loki gestured down the hallway. “Be my guest.”

A brief pause, and Thor looked almost embarrassed. “This place is a maze, and I am upended.”

“She does have that effect.”

“What I mean to say…” Thor visibly gathered himself. “I’m lost.”

Loki felt an unexpected jolt of pity for his brother and silenced the words he wanted to say. Instead, he shook his head with a faint smile and straightened.

“Follow me.”

He took the shortcuts he had learned over the long hours, and they emerged at the operations deck moments later. Thor remained silent, standing in the doorway as if reluctant to enter. Loki walked ahead, allowing Fury to turn and notice both of them.

“My brother wishes an audience,” he said, unable to keep himself from at least a slight dig. Fury looked past him, and it was obvious that the director was surprised at the change in Thor’s demeanor. Loki didn’t look back, but merely leaned forward to speak quietly in Fury’s ear.

“He’s had a long day,” he said. “Be gentle.” A nod to Fury, and then to his brother, and he was again out the door and headed back toward the lab.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Aeslin_ : an Irish name meaning dream or vision, from the prophetic poems called _aisling_. I couldn't not, guys. She was named way before I wrote this scene, but I couldn't NOT.
> 
> Also, a note on the adoption joke. It's meant to be funny, kind of like in the film, but it's also meant to make Parker think. In the offscreen world of my story, Parker's looking back and realizing that Loki hasn't talked about his family. Never once, and the more Parker watches what's going on, the more he thinks he might know why.
> 
> (I might be a little bit of a Loki apologist, but the part in the Avengers where Thor's like "He's my brother!" and then they're like "He kills people!" and Thor's like LOLZ and under the bus Loki goes! has always rankled me just a little.)


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Parker has questions and makes a few observations.

Loki was halfway down a flight of stairs before he realized he was going the wrong way. He had been so preoccupied in trying to process what he had seen that his body had taken over. The scene had replayed itself in his mind over and over - the hammer. Thor’s face. Her anger. Her hesitation. The split-second tugged at him, but he pushed his fear aside for the moment. He had to; she had been right. There were bigger things to worry about.

And the more he told himself, the more likely he was to believe it.

It became a mantra in his mind as he made his way back to the lab. Banner and Stark had gone; a glance at the map showed that there was little left to do. Parker seemed to be working on the last of it; he was intent on the information in front of him.

“I can take over from here,” Loki said. “Your turn was up a while ago.”

“It’s done,” replied the young man, his voice distracted and his attention still on the display before him. “Stark was able to stabilize the net, so it’s finally self-sustaining. Now we just wait.”

“I’ll wait,” offered Loki. “It shouldn’t be long. You should rest; you’ve done more than enough.”

“In a minute.” Parker gently tracked his finger across the screen in front of him; Loki saw now that it was covered in text and images. The biologist’s voice was curious. “Odin’s kid, huh?”

“Adopted,” he corrected. “Well, stolen. It’s rather involved.”

“Yeah,” Parker said. “So I’ve heard.” He laughed a little. “Just when I think things can’t get any weirder.”

Loki gave him a skeptical look. “Around here? It will. Just give it time.”

“A thousand years as a god,” Parker mused. “The questions I could ask you.”

“Go ahead,” said Loki. “I think you’ve earned one or two.”

“You were really left on an altar to die?” At Loki’s look, he gave a gentle shrug. “It’s in the files Stark gave me.”

Loki’s eyebrows lowered. “What files?”

The other man had the decency to look embarrassed. “The sealed ones I’m guessing you haven’t seen?”

“Why would I need to? I was there, after all.” A brief, humorless smile. “And what I didn’t know didn’t hurt me.” The lie slipped out almost of its own accord, and he was grateful when Parker ignored it and looked back at the screen, which now showed what appeared to be an artist’s rendition of Jotunheim.

“And you were there, too. Right? That’s where the giants abandoned you.”

Safer territory, and Loki silently thanked the young man. “Either that, or they left me as a sacrifice to ensure glorious victory.”

Parker looked briefly confused. “But they lost. Right? That’s when Odin found you.”

“Then they should have offered something besides the runt,” Loki replied with a shrug. “Gods aren’t fond of castoffs.”

“Being the runt’s not so bad,” the other man said, absently flipping through another series of images. “My sister passed me up somewhere around the third grade, and even my parents’ dog is taller than I am when it’s standing up. I think they did it on purpose.”

“More than likely,” Loki agreed. “Next question.”

“Can you pick up the hammer?”

“No. I’ve never been able to.”

A thoughtful look came over Parker’s face. “Then why can she?”

“Because she’s worthy.”

“Well _duh_ ,” said Parker. “Why else? She shouldn’t be able to. Your face made that pretty obvious.”

“The hammer chooses. That’s all I know.”

This seemed to satisfy the other man, and he closed out his display.

“What, no more questions?”

Parker pulled a SHIELD jacket over his head. His face was thoughtful, and he spoke slowly.

“Do you regret what you did?” he asked. “If you knew then what you know now, would you do anything different?”

_Lightning in his spine, a scream trapped in lungs that will not breathe, and everything is writhing laughter and piercing cold and she will not stop shaking in his arms no matter how tightly he holds her. He should have destroyed himself, should have gathered Odin’s lies and held them in his body like cinders until he burned from the inside out. He would never have met her. She would never have crossed the bridge. She would have unraveled, her body tearing itself apart, and death would have come for her long before she could not save her brother. Blood on her face and blood on her hands, and it is all his fault._

“Yes,” Loki said. “I think I would.”

Parker looked at him with eyes that looked older than they should have, and perhaps that was his fault, too, but the young man’s voice was clear and certain as he stood to leave.

“Then you, my friend, are an idiot.”

Loki stared at him for a moment in silence, and Parker leaned against the doorframe.

“She hasn’t slept in two days,” the biologist said. “Not since those few hours after Coulson. It’s given us time to talk, so I guess that’s one good thing that’s come out of all this.” He shrugged. “Which isn’t what I meant to say.”

“Then what is?”

Parker looked at him, and his eyes were very old indeed as he gestured around him. “This. All… this. It would still be happening. We’d still be on the cusp of invasion. The hole would have opened regardless of what you did or didn’t do. That thing would still be loose. Coulson would still be dead. The only differences?” He held up three fingers in turn. “So would I. So would Maris. And so would Aeslin. Believe it or not, think of it how you will, but without you?” He blew across the tops of his fingers. “Gone.”

Loki gave him a faint, sarcastic smile. “So what are you saying? It’s fate?”

“I’m a scientist,” Parker replied. “I don’t believe in fate.” He gave Loki a long, level look. “And I also don’t believe in accidents.” He looked around the room. “It’s all yours,” he said, thumping the doorframe lightly. “See you around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support. :) You guys are the best!
> 
> Please give feedback, if you can.


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki makes some observations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today, because I really love this one and wanted to share it sooner rather than later.  
> (Plus, see yesterday's post on HERE ARE ALL THE THINGS PLEASE LURVE ME OKAY.)  
> (This isn't all the things. I ain't done yet.) :D

The lab had been quiet after Parker’s departure, save for the undercurrent of the helicarrier’s engines. Loki kept half an ear open to listen for any signal from the sensors; his remaining attention was nominally occupied by the book Jarvis had brought up on another display for him. He closed it out when he realized he had read the same paragraph three times without understanding a word. Parker’s words tumbled through his brain, a soft counterpoint to the thrum of the carrier around him.

There was a scuff of a boot in the doorway, and he turned rapidly, half-expecting to see Parker again. He didn’t.

“I left my phone,” she said, looking everywhere but him. She seemed reluctant to cross the threshold, but gathered herself and did it anyway. “I thought maybe if I got some rest…” she trailed off, crossing to the workstation he had used earlier in the day and picking up her earpiece. She looked at it for a moment, her mind clearly somewhere else. Her face was lit in profile by the display beside her, and in that moment, all the clever things Loki had planned to say evaporated.

“There’s no web,” he said quietly. “No snares. No strings. No lies.”

“I know,” she said to the thing in her hand.

“Do you really?”

She closed her fingers around the headset. Her voice was low. “You promised.”

“And you hesitated.” He hated the way the words felt on his tongue. “Why?”

“Because I believed him. For one split second, I believed him, and it hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. I almost let him have it right then.” She scoffed a little, folding her arms. “Maybe I should have. Then the rest of it wouldn’t have happened. Where is he, anyway?”

“With Fury,” Loki replied. “That’s where I left him, at least. He’s probably pledging himself to the cause as we speak.”

“That’s very kind of him.”

Loki shrugged. “He sees no choice in the matter. The hammer found you worthy, and therefore any reservations he may have had at the beginning of your… discussion are now completely irrelevant.” He shook his head a little. “What were you thinking?”

She turned to him at last, arms still wrapped around herself. “I wasn’t. I hurt. I was angry. I just wanted him to go away, and I didn’t think. I acted. The worst part is that I’m pretty sure I knew I could pick it up before I ever even touched it. I knew I could, and I did it anyway. What does it mean? Am I one of them? Like Thor? Like Odin?” Her voice was forlorn. “I don’t want to be like them.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I am,” Loki told her, “because I know them. And I know you.”

“You’ve known them for a thousand years,” she said. “You’ve known me for less than six months.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her face was sad and a little cold. “It _does_. You know only what I’ve told you. Only what you’ve seen. You’ve watched me change. You’ve watched me become something I never meant to be. You don’t know what I was before you. Before _this_. You don’t know what I am outside of these walls or away from this place. You don’t know _me_ , and maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe it’s better that way.” She turned away, shaking her head as she went toward the door.

He spoke into the second before she crossed the threshold. “Your favorite color is green,” he said conversationally. “The darker the better. You wear it well, by the way.”

She froze, her back still to him, and the words slipped along the line of her shoulder. “You love chocolate, which I completely understand, and sushi, which I don’t, since I’ve never had it myself. You’re allergic to wool and to oak trees, of all things. You think roses are overrated; they’re pleasant enough, in a pinch, but you much prefer hydrangeas.”

She turned slowly, quietly. Her eyes met his, and Loki pushed back his chair and stood. He took a single step toward her, and when she said nothing, he continued, taking another slow step.

“You love the smell of books. You can name stars without looking at them. You prefer driving to being a passenger. You choose vacations with a map and darts. You hate the cold but dislike summer.” Another step. “You tried to kill yourself after your father died, and I think you very nearly succeeded.”

Her face went white, and she dropped her gaze. He came within arms’ reach, cupping her jaw in one hand and tilting her face to look at him. She did so reluctantly, shame and defiance mingled in the silvery green. “I’m not finished,” he said, releasing her chin. She looked down again but stayed where she was, and he went on.

“You’re afraid of the dark, because unlike most people, you know what’s in it. Your sorrow claws at you with every breath, and you carry it alone because you always have. You say nothing of it because you think yourself an anchor. A weight. A burden too heavy for anyone else to bear, and I tell you right now that you are _wrong_.”

His voice softened. “You are no burden,” he told her, feeling a strange rush in his body as the words he had held for so long were finally set free. “I would bear you in my arms until the end of all things, little one, and every time I stumbled, every _second_ my arms ached, I would thank whatever god would listen for your company.”

“Why?” She raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes held a slight look of incomprehension, and in that moment, she was so beautiful he thought his heart might break.

“Because I love you, Aeslin Kindlesdaughter. And I fear I have for quite some time.”

She said nothing but did not take her eyes from him.

“There could _not_ be a worse time for me to tell you this,” he eventually said. He leaned against the edge of a workstation. “I couldn’t think of one if I tried, and honestly, the place isn’t much better. I know it. I _know_. But I will not stand here and watch you drown. I can’t...” he heard his voice break, and he started over as he shook his head a little helplessly. “I couldn’t-”

Then she kissed him.

It was over almost before it began, a mere ghosting of her lips against his, and he wondered for a moment if he had imagined it. The tingle in his veins told him otherwise. She pulled back a little, her fingertips on his arm; he slid his hand along her jawline to tangle his own fingers in her hair. His lips met hers, and he kissed her gently, slowly, taking his time. She responded, and he felt her hand on his cheek, then his neck as she closed the distance between them. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, feeling the heat of her body through her shirt. He felt all his fear, sorrow and hurt fall away under her touch, and his blood sang as he slid his hand up her back to pull her still tighter against him. He trailed his fingers along her neck, feeling the pulse beneath her skin. Strong, rapid and yet so vulnerable. So fragile.

 _Fragile._ _Vulnerable._ The words subtly nudged his brain, and he mentally batted them away. They pushed back, harder. Even then, it took most of the rational thought he had to break the kiss, and at last, he did so reluctantly. She dragged her hand lightly up his ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps, and he felt the only bit of reason that remained to him begin to slip away. His fingers dug into the long muscles along her spine, almost of their own accord, and she winced so quickly he almost didn’t see. He relaxed his hand, and only then could he feel the welts that ran beneath the fabric. The bars. He had forgotten. He ran his lips along her jaw in a wordless apology as she lay her head on his shoulder, her arms still around him. He buried his face in her neck. She smelled of vanilla and citrus and warm skin, and as his heartbeat slowed to match hers, he realized in that moment that she had lied to him from the start. She had been a trap all along.

She shifted in his arms, and he heard her voice close to his ear. “Be sure,” she said.

He left a kiss in the hollow above her collarbone as he pulled back to look at her. Her face was a little troubled, and as he drew breath to speak, she rested her fingers on his lips.

“Be sure it's what you say it is.” She searched his eyes as if afraid of what she might find. “Please.”

“It is,” he said, taking her hand away gently. “Trust me.”

She looked at him, her fingers dropping to his chest. He covered her hand with his.

“Trust me,” he said again. “And trust this.”

Her fingers nested among his, and a tiny smile touched her lips. “You’re right, you know.” she said. “Your sense of timing is nothing short of breathtaking.”

“Thank you.” He stroked a thumb across her knuckles.

“That's not necessarily a positive thing.”

“But this is?” He made it a question.

“Yes.” She brushed her lips against his; they were soft, sweet, and she took them away again much too soon. “I think so.”

He slid his right hand upward, gently pulling the fingers of her left hand from the back of his neck. Turning his head, he touched his lips to her wrist, where beneath the fabric lay three white lines, each cut deeper than the last. They had been barely noticeable beneath his fingers in the darkened room as he had washed the blood from her skin, but even then, he had known almost at once what they were. There was a matching set on the other arm, not as obvious but no less vicious.

“Then as I was saying,” he said, kissing the tip of her index finger, “and perhaps you’ll believe me _this_ time, you’re not like them. It’s not in your nature. Don’t you see? You’re _better_ than they are. You always have been, and you always will be.”

“Promise?”

He ran a finger along her cheek. “Promise.”

Her brow knit. “What now?”

“Now? I wait here until either we find what we’re looking for, or until Parker’s human again and it’s not my turn anymore, and _you_ go get some much-needed sleep.”

A skeptical look. “Really? Just like that.”

“Just like that. You can barely stand, little one. It’s time.”

She toyed with the zipper on his jacket. “Find me when you’re done?”

He smiled. “Always.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Do you know what I am, butterfly?” the unicorn asked hopefully, and he replied. “Excellent well, you’re a fishmonger. You’re my everything, you are my sunshine, you are old and gray and full of sleep, you’re my pickle-face, consumptive Mary Jane.” He paused, fluttering his wings against the wind, and added conversationally, “Your name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name." Peter S. Beagle, _The Last Unicorn_
> 
> “I think love is stronger than habits or circumstances. I think it is possible to keep yourself for someone for a long time and still remember why you were waiting when she comes at last.” Peter S. Beagle, _The Last Unicorn_
> 
> Author's note: The second prompt to this story was the song "New Divide", by Linkin Park. I'm not sure how to link to the lyrics in the notes (not super great at HTML, etc.), but they basically tell Loki's story up to this point in the narrative. Take a listen, if you would, or let me know and I will try to find a way to link to the lyrics later.
> 
> Pretty pretty please give feedback on this chapter, if you can. I did so enjoy writing it. <3


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me.” Peter S. Beagle, _The Last Unicorn_

There wasn’t much to be seen out of the large window in the officer’s lounge, but from what Loki could tell, Aeslin didn’t seem to care. She sat with her back to the wall, staring out at the clouds that hovered below the helicarrier’s decks without seeing them. There had been some activity a while before; Stark and Romanoff had taken a jet to follow up on a lead in Germany, and with Parker back on the sensors, there was nothing to do but wait.  She looked up at Loki as he entered, and he took in the discarded pillow and blanket at a glance.

“Any luck?” he asked.

“Some,” she replied, still looking up at him. After a moment, with a ghost of a rueful smile, she scooted forward.  He took the hint and sat behind her, letting his arms rest loosely around her waist. “I finally decided to raid the medical wing,” she continued, settling back against him a little gingerly, as though she wasn’t sure whether he was real or if she’d go right through him. “I took the strongest sedative I could find.”

He adjusted his arms a bit tighter to help ground her. “Did it help?”

She rested her head in the curve of his arm, shrugging one shoulder. “For a few hours. It didn’t stop the dreams, but at least it kept me asleep.”

He processed that for a moment before realizing what it meant. “Ouch,” he finally said.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Rest assured, I won’t be doing _that_ again for a while. Honestly, I much prefer whatever it is you did. I didn’t dream at all.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific.”

“This,” she explained, tracing her finger along his forearm in a clumsy but recognizable pattern that made every hair stand on end. “You know. The lullaby.”

Loki gave a short laugh, carefully moving her fingers away. “That wasn’t a lullaby.” He rested his lips on her hair for a moment, thinking. “It’s just a tiny part of something much more intricate. It’s a request.”

“What kind of something? What were you asking?”

He ignored the first question for the moment, working out the best translation for the second. It was more difficult than he thought. “I used it out of context,” he finally explained, “so think of it in terms of what was happening when I said it.”

Loki felt her nod a little against his bicep, and he went on. “I asked you to take me with you.”

“Where?”

“In here.” He stroked a finger across her forehead, smoothing out the confused wrinkle he found while he did so. He thought further as he trailed his hand idly back down her arm. “Inside your mind. Inside your soul, right where it broke, so that the next time the darkness came, it wouldn’t find you alone. It would have to take us both.”

She remained quiet but pulled his arms a bit closer around her, and he rested his cheek on her hair. When she spoke at last, her voice was thoughtful.

“It didn’t seem like that many words.”

 _Always the scientist._ “I didn’t say them all. Take me with you. Keep me there. That was all you needed; the rest you figured out yourself.” Loki shrugged a little. “It worked, I think. You were able to rest after that.”

She shifted, stretching out one leg. “Magic.”

“Can’t be,” he replied with a nudge. “I don’t have any. It was desperation, pure and simple. There was too much pain. Too much hurt, and nothing else was working.”

A quiet laugh. “Just two words for the same thing.” She tilted her head, just a little, the way she always did when she was truly puzzled. “What’s the real context?”

 _Always,_ **_always_ ** _the scientist._ Loki couldn’t help but smile. “Another time.”

“No,” she said, and there it was. That hint of normalcy. That hint of what she had been, and what she might be again, somewhere far from this time and this room. “Tell me now.”

“You misunderstand,” he replied. “I _was_ telling you. A different time.” He was suddenly glad she couldn’t see his face; a tiny bit self-conscious, he took her hands in each of his, turning them palm up one at a time. “Same place. Different time.”

“Oh.” She looked at their hands for several seconds. He could almost hear her mind working. “ _Oh_.”

He laughed. “Took you long enough.” He let out a long, theatrical sigh. “And here I thought you were a genius.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She dropped her face into her upturned palm. “All the times in all the worlds, and you pulled something from _then_?”

“You filthy-minded little _minx_ ,” he said, allowing a bit of shock to color his tone. “Not _then_.”

She relaxed. “Oh. All right.”

He couldn’t help himself, so he didn’t even try. “ _After_ then. Once you’ve remembered what words are and have at _least_ a vague idea of how to use them.”

A sudden laugh. It was the best thing he’d heard in days, and Loki wanted to capture it. To keep it, tuck it away in his pocket next to the scrap of paper he carried with him day and night. She dropped her head back against him with a gentle thump. “You are unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” he said, earning himself an elbow to the ribs. It was a small price to pay to have distracted her - to have lifted her spirits, if only for a little while. “Just remember that you started it, same as you always do.” He became a little more serious. “And it’s likely _still_ not what you’re thinking,” he went on. “Just a tiny part of something more intricate, remember? It’s more than just a few words here and there.”

Her voice was curious. “What else, then?”

“Can’t say,” he said, brushing his lips across her hair to take away any sting his words might cause. “Not yet.”

“Ever?”

He shrugged easily. “That very much depends on you.”

She leaned back again, her mood more contemplative and her head on his arm. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, light streaming in from the window and the carrier humming gently beneath them. He closed his eyes, feeling her breathe against him, and pretended for a moment they were anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> grief is a peculiar thing. when my grandpa died, i spent a lot of the funeral trying not to laugh, because everyone was talking about how he was this great guy (he was an AMAZING guy) and he would do anything for anyone, and i had that skit from sesame street with teeny little super guy (grandpa was only about 5’3” when he died) going through my head the whole time. when my grandmother died a couple of years later, the night of the funeral we went out for dinner, specifically to get soup and pie. we were laughing and joking and when the woman asked us what we were celebrating we told her we had just come from a funeral. the look on her face was a memory that i will forever cherish.
> 
> in the aftermath of a loss, there are times when you’re just moving along, maybe doing what you’re normally doing or having a random conversation and everything is fine until you turn to tell the person something and they aren’t there. then it’s a hard, hard thing. that weird juxtaposition is part of where these next two chapters come from.
> 
> loki knows full well that it was pretty much the WORST time to tell her that he loves her, what with her still reeling from coulson's death and the world coming to pieces. she's not in her right mind, and he knows it. his actions may come across as something that doesn't fit the situation, but he's doing his damndest to keep her distracted and moving long enough to do what needs to be done, and then she can come apart all she wants. he's a warrior. he's a student of everything, including how brains work. he (thinks he) knows what he's doing, and I think a little part of her is glad at least one of them does, because she's basically on emotional autopilot.


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Not) Promises and gifts.

“I’m glad it was you that came for me,” she said suddenly, “and not someone else.” Loki’s eyes blinked open; they had been sitting in silence for several moments, and with her head heavy on his arm, he had assumed that she had gone back to sleep.

“Like who?”

Twisting in his arms, she pulled herself around to face him, settling herself comfortably in his lap with her legs framing his. “I don’t know. Anyone.” She smoothed her fingers gently on his chest. “I mean, I didn’t even know it was you, at least not at first. But when I realized who you were, I was so glad. It was right that you were there and not anyone else. I needed so much for it to be you.”

“Why?”

“Because it made sense.” She looked down, and he thought maybe it hadn’t been what she meant to say. “It’s still pretty much the only thing right now that does.”

“Then why were you so shocked when I told you how I feel? How could something that made such sense make absolutely none only a little while later? Don’t try to tell me it did. I saw it in your eyes.” His lip twitched. “Briefly. You know. Before you went for me.”

She gave him a stern look; he gave her a deliberately stupid grin in return, and he could have sworn her cheeks colored a little. “The situations were different.”

“No, they weren’t,” he said, immediately serious again. “I love you now. I loved you then. Why else would I have come for you?”

She was suddenly very interested in his shirt. “Because,” she said, more to it than to him, “at times like that… people do what they think they have to. They make promises. And they say such pretty things.” A shrug that made his heart ache. “But in the end, they’re just words. Very few people actually mean them, and even fewer keep the promises they make. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. You did and said what was needed when it was needed, but I’d heard it all before.”

“Not _quite_ all.”

“Almost all,” she agreed with a small grin. “But it wasn’t just that. I thought that...” she trailed off awkwardly, then tried again. “I thought…” She winced. “Maris.”

“Never.” He softly ran his hands across her back, still conscious of the welts. “I admit that the offer was made more than once, and I considered it more than once. But in the end, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have been fair to her. She was never who I wanted. Who I needed.”

“And I was.”

He shook his head, taking her face in both hands. “You _are_.”

She dropped her hands to her legs with a quiet sigh. “I wish I could say it back to you. To tell you what you need to hear,” she said. “But I can’t.”

“I can hardly expect you to, and I don’t need you to. I don’t _want_ you to. That’s not why I told you. I told you because I needed you to know, and because you needed to hear what I had to say, whether you liked it or not. I needed you to know that what I did was not just an empty gesture. There was a reason I did it, and you deserved to know what it was.”

“I want to tell you.” She sighed, her frustration evident. “I really do. But even if I could… I couldn’t. I can’t. Not to you.”

“Why not?”

She turned her head a little, but not before he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. He pulled her chin back, relentless. “Aeslin, please. Just tell me.”

“Because I’m selfish.” He could feel the pulse below her jaw, the muscles tight beneath his fingers as she unconsciously tried to pull away without success. “Because every person I have ever said those words to has gone away. Every single one. Don’t you understand? I can’t let you go, too. Not now. It would break me.”

He dropped his hand. “Aeslin. I’m not g-”

" _Don’t_.” Her voice was ragged. “Don’t you _dare_ say what you’re going to.” She shook her head, eyes pleading. “No promises. No lies. Not now.”

“Not one,” Loki said, understanding at last. She looked at him for a long moment, and then leaned forward to kiss him. Her lips were careful, almost hesitant, and he responded in kind, patient and encouraging. The kiss strengthened, warm and deep and sweet, and he could almost feel something inside her loosen as she gave herself over to it. He tightened his hands on her hips and tugged forward, molding her against him.

There was a sudden, sharp poke in his stomach, and he made an unhappy sound against her lips. He shifted his hand, sliding it toward the front of her jacket in hopes of dislodging whatever it was. Her hand slapped down on his at the same second he recognized the shape beneath his fingers.

Coulson’s box.

Everything left Loki at once, and he let his head drop back against the wall, breaking the kiss. “I’m sorry,” he said, his hand still trapped under hers. “I didn’t realize it was still there.”

Her other hand was still on the back of his neck, her breathing a little unsteady. “He always was pretty outspoken about the men in my life,” she said. “It would appear that some things haven’t changed.” She rested her forehead against Loki’s, her eyes tightly closed, and he felt her fingernails dig a little into his neck, right next to the spine. “Damn him,” she whispered after a moment. “ _Damn_ him.”

Unsure of what to do and glad that she kept her nails as short as she did, Loki merely settled for rubbing the thumb of his free hand against her side, just below her ribs. The motion seemed to interrupt her thoughts, or at least solidify them; he felt her fingers relax as she came back to herself. She sighed and spoke not to Loki, but to the one that wasn’t there.

“ _Fine_.” She raised her head from Loki’s, her voice as it had been so often around the other, mingled frustration and affection. “You win.”

Her fingers released Loki’s neck, brushing gently across the marks in the skin as she gave him an apologetic smile. Loki slipped his hand from beneath hers, and she pulled the box from her pocket, weighing it in her palm. A moment passed, and then she gently blew out a breath as she slid a fingernail under one edge of the wrapping paper.

“Wait.” Loki put his hand over hers. “Do you really want me here for this?”

Her eyes met his, and he saw a quiet panic in them. “If you think for one damn _minute_ I’m doing this by myself, you can just think again.”

“It’s clearly for you, and no one else. It could be something very personal, and perhaps not something you, or he, would wish anyone else to see.”

“I’m willing to take that chance.”

He released her fingers, putting his hands back around her waist with the fingers linked behind her. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” She closed her eyes, visibly bracing herself. Her fingers were steady, and she rapidly pulled the plain cardboard box free of its wrapping. He could feel her holding her breath as she lifted the top, dropping it and the paper to the floor next to them. She reopened her eyes, and they looked into the package together, staring in silence at the object nestled in the soft white cotton inside.

“What is that?” Loki asked after a moment.

She upended the box, and the thing fell glittering into her hand. She looked almost as confused as he felt.

“It’s a tie pin,” she said.

“For one of his?”

She shook her head, her voice distant. “Pins are for amateurs,” she answered, but the words weren’t hers. “Phil never wears them.” She caught herself. “Wore them.” Her palm shifted, and the silver shone in the lights above. It bore a similar emblem to the one on their shirts - the stylized bird of prey that was SHIELD’s symbol. “Looks vintage. This hasn’t been SHIELD’s logo for over twenty years.” Picking up the box again, she poked beneath and around the cotton, then looked at the inside of the wrapping paper. “No note. Nothing.”

“A joke between the two of you?”

“Not one I remember.” Her face kept that faintly puzzled look, and she rolled the pin between nimble fingers. “He told me before…" She broke off, took a breath, and tried again. "A couple of days before everything happened, he told me that he had something for me. I was supposed to remind him. I’m sure he would have explained it, but now… I don’t know. It’s just a gift, I guess.”

“Not just any gift. His last gift.”

She didn’t reply, but now there was a faint smile at the edge of her lips. She ran her thumb slowly, almost reverently across the polished surface.

There came a faint, high-pitched beep, followed by a tiny blink of blue light.

Then it fell to pieces in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mine is an evil laugh.
> 
> Feedback appreciated, as always. Y'all are THE BEST. <3


	72. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki and Aeslin realize they are more alike than they ever wanted to be.

_She stares at her palm for a moment, and at the small, silver data chip that had been hidden inside the pin. It is little bigger than one of her fingernails, and she carefully picks it up. Her eyes meet his, and he wordlessly boosts her up from his lap. She offers him a hand, and he uses the leverage to pull himself to his feet. There is a workstation in the corner of the lounge; she adjusts the display to a better position and drops the chip onto the reader._

_Documents flash onto the screen, arranging themselves like pages on a desk. Each bears the same stamp at the top._

_His brow furrows. “Tempest?”_

_She doesn’t look at him; all her attention is on the screen in front of her. “I have no idea.”_

Stark stood in the briefing room. Hill sat at the table behind him, and Tony had just finished relating his take on the events in Stuttgart. One prisoner. One casualty, though not fatal. Several pounds of missing iridium. A bust, but not a total one.

Behind Fury, the door opened quietly, and Dr. Kindle stepped into the room. Her face reminded Tony of a painting he had once seen; he couldn’t place it. Her hand was closed around something, and he could see the marks where her fingernails had almost broken the skin.

“We need to talk.” She spoke to Fury’s back, her voice flat.

_“This file is massive.” Her fingers are quick on the edge of the workstation. “Jarvis?” she says after a moment._

_“I’m here, Doctor Kindle.”_

_“Do you have brains to spare? I know the scanners are taking up huge amounts of power.”_

_There is a gentle rebuke in the AI’s tone. “I’ve given most of the heavy lifting to the helicarrier’s central processor. I’m far from overwhelmed, Doctor. You are more than welcome to any help I can give.”_

_She gestures to the screen, though she has no need to. “Any guesses as to what this is?”_

“Is it about the mission?” Fury looked at her over his shoulder.

“No.”

“Then it can wait.” He turned back. He clearly expected Tony to continue, but Stark suddenly found himself very reluctant to speak. Fury gave him a look. “Go on,” he began, but a small sound cut him off. Tony looked at the table and saw that she had thrown a data chip onto the glass.

_“It would appear to be a highly classified project.” Pages skitter across the screen. Loki catches words and numbers here and there: 1918, H1N1, rebirth, and teapot, of all things._

_Jarvis’ voice comes again. “This documents a series of experiments headed by one Doctor Raines. I believe this may be yet another attempt to recreate Project Rebirth.”_

_Loki glances from the screen to Aeslin. “What’s Rebirth?”_

_She is rapidly skimming the display. “Rogers. Their one real success.”_

_The AI continues. “Her hypothesis, it would seem, is that the serum didn’t work on the other subjects because their genetic material was incompatible with the process.”_

_“Incompatible?” Loki asks. “How?”_

_A fraction of a second’s pause from the AI, and then it speaks. “This may be a typographical error. It states that their DNA was too stable.” A pause. “I believe it should read ‘too unstable.’”_

“And that is?” Fury asked.

“My letter of resignation. Effective immediately.”

Stark looked at it, then her. “Just an opinion, here, but I think your timing might be a little-”

“Shut up,” she replied without looking at him. Her next words were addressed to Fury. “Would you like me to summarize it for you? I know you’re a busy man.”

 _“Stop,” she says abruptly. “ **S**_ ** _top._ ** _”_

_A simple form, and an illegible signature next to a scrawled date. He thinks for a moment that this is what she wants, and although she lingers on this page for a few seconds, her hand is already moving, flipping back through the last few documents._

_An image. Small. Black and white. One that he had dismissed the first time; now he takes a step forward and looks again. A girl, barely out of childhood. It is a candid shot, and she is not looking at the camera. Her gaze is on something to her right. The curves and edges of her face are rounded by youth, but the grin is unmistakable._

“This really isn’t the time, Dr. Kindle,” Fury said. “We can talk later.” He gestured again for Tony to finish, and again she cut him off.

“‘Subject is a thirteen-year-old Caucasian female. Past medical history is notable only for accidental exposure to non-baryonic radiation at approximately nine weeks’ gestation. Remaining history is unremarkable; no physical anomalies have been identified, and subject has been medically cleared. As both parents are deceased, authorization for project participation is obtained from subject’s legal guardian, Nicholas J. Fury.’”

_There is a clatter of metal. From somewhere behind him, Loki hears her throw up._

Fury went stock-still, his face unreadable.

“Should I go on?” she asked. “The part with the augmented Spanish influenza virus is especially interesting. The descriptions of how they piggybacked the serum onto it get pretty technical, so we can skip those and go straight to the section where they’ve got the genius-level kid convinced she’s so sick that she’ll die if she leaves before treatment is completed.” She shook her head. “You _bastard_. I wasn’t going to die. I was never even sick. I never had anything except what you gave me.”

Fury let out a long breath. “I had no choice,” he finally said.

“Do you know what informed consent means?” she asked. “It means that you _did_ have a choice. And you used that choice to lie to me. To stand aside for five _months_ and let them try to turn me into a weapon.”

_Her face is white; her hands are clenched around the edge of the small metal sink, and she is trembling like a leaf. He wonders if she is weeping, but her eyes, though tightly closed, are dry. He knows then that it is not only sorrow. In a sudden motion, she shuts off the water and shoves herself away from the counter. He grabs her arm as she passes. She looks at his hand, then his face, but he does not release her. He knows that look. He has worn it himself._

The director turned to face her at last. “It was a mistake. One that I’ve been trying to make up for ever since.”

“It was three mistakes,” she shot back. _“Three._ They couldn’t accept that their theory was wrong. They couldn’t accept that what should have made it work was the very thing that _kept_ it from working. So they tried again, and then again, and you _let_ them.”

“I was under orders.”

“ _I was thirteen_ ,” she said, very distinctly, “and you were everything I had left. You stood there at my father’s graveside and promised it would be all right. You had Mom declared legally dead because you said you needed to, but you promised you'd never stop looking. You said you would be my guardian. My advocate. My caregiver. And you were lying the whole time.”

_“Don’t do it.”_

_Her arm is tense beneath his fingers. “Let go of me.”_

_“It will solve nothing.”_

_“Did that stop_ **_you_** _?”_

_“No,” he says, “which makes me uniquely qualified to tell you that whatever you're thinking, it’s likely a very bad idea.”_

Fury pulled his gaze from hers long enough to glance at table, where the silver chip still innocently lay. “Where did you get that?”

“Did Phil know?” she asked instead. “And I suggest you tell the truth, if you know how, because the next time you lie to me, I will _end_ you.”

“No. He didn’t.”

“He was your chief operative. Your right hand. Your one good eye, and yet you expect me to believe that you never once said a word about this.”

“You’re damn right I didn’t,” Fury scoffed, “even after he had the clearance he needed. He was never brought into the later projects either, for the simple reason that, when it came to you, Phil Coulson was compromised. He lacked objectivity. That was made _very_ clear to us right about the time he sent that kid to the hospital.”

“And _you_ had all the objectivity you needed,” she said acidly, “since you weren’t ‘under orders.’ The project was your idea in the first place.” She lifted a hand; Tony forced himself to remain still. The data chip flew back toward her outstretched fingers.

_“You did it anyway.” She seems determined to dismiss him._

_“And look what it got me,” he says._

_Her arm relaxes a little in his grip. “Yes,” she answers, a small, sad smile on her lips. She refuses to meet his eyes. “Just look what it got you.”_

“Odin’s magic succeeded where you failed,” she said, the chip spinning slowly above her palm. “And if I could, I’d hate you both for what you’ve done.” The data chip dropped, and she closed her fingers around it. Tony could hardly look at her; the betrayal and sorrow in her face were nearly unbearable. “I said I would help, and I will. What we face is beyond anything we’ve encountered, and you’re going to need every one of us. But let me be very clear. I don’t do this for SHIELD, and I sure as hell don’t do this for you. Once it’s finished, so are we. Do you understand?”

Fury nodded. “I understand.”

“There will be no Index listing. All my personal data will be purged. There will be no surveillance. _Nothing_.”

“Nothing,” Fury agreed. “We interrogate Rumlow. We find the Tesseract. With any luck, we stop this before it starts, and then you’re in the wind. You have my word.”

“Which might have meant something yesterday.” she said. She turned her back on Fury and walked to the door. “And which now means nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback always appreciated. Love you all! :)


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony does something he's not accustomed to, or that one time Tony chased a girl and not the other way around.

The briefing should have ended then. Tony was a businessman. Tony knew meetings, and the second that woman walked out the door, that meeting should have been _done_. Over. Finished. And yet the door closed, and Fury looked at him as if nothing had happened and asked him to finish his briefing. Tony had. It had taken him a little less than thirty seconds, and afterward he had invited Fury to do something that was _probably_ anatomically impossible and calmly walked out the door after her.

It might have been calmly. He didn’t quite remember.

The stupid thing was, he knew that SHIELD participated in human experimentation. He had known for quite some time, and that was even without taking Rogers into consideration. It was one thing to see it on paper. It was one thing to see a photo or two. But it was supposed to happen to someone else. Someone far away that Tony didn’t know, someone who hadn't been a freaking _kid_. Someone who didn’t grow up to be a smartass genius who raided his snack stashes so frequently that he’d started stocking extras of the stuff she took the most. Someone else besides the one who apologized when she opened a door into his face, even when she wasn’t sorry and they both knew she wasn’t. Someone else besides the one who laughed at all his jokes and couldn’t bowl her way out of a paper bag. Someone else besides the one with fingernail marks in her palms and a face like a Botticelli angel, standing in front of the man she had trusted with her soul and telling him that she wouldn’t walk away.

Tony strolled casually and rapidly through the helicarrier, trying to catch sight of her without success. It hadn’t been that long. It shouldn’t have been hard to find her, but then again, Tony wasn’t exactly seeing straight. There were little bits of red around the edges of everything, and he made a mental note to ask Bruce if that was what he saw in the seconds before the other guy took over.

He took a corner too quickly and smacked full-speed into someone coming the other way, bouncing off and stumbling before the other grabbed his shoulder to steady him.

“Careful,” came a voice, and he looked up to see blue eyes and black hair and _no_ one should have the right to look that good in a hand-me-down SHIELD jacket and _he_ would know. He would know where she was, because Tony had seen his face when he looked at her and if he did know Tony would never _never_ make fun of his brother (to his face) or call him Gumby or Otter Pop ever again and that was a damn _promise_.

“Doctor Kindle,” he said, and that was as far as he got. Loki grabbed the front of his shirt, and Tony briefly wondered if this was the moment he died.

“Did she kill him?” the other man asked, and Tony realized that Loki knew everything, knew about Fury and the experiments and somehow they were all still breathing anyway, and if _that_ wasn’t something he didn’t know what was.

“No,” he answered, and Loki let go of him with a sort of relief in his face. “But she left, and I can’t find her. I need to find her. I need to talk to her, so I need you to tell me where she is because she’s somewhere and she’s alone and I have to find her because this is wrong, it’s so stupidass wrong that I can’t think straight and I thought _I_ was a first-class bastard and we have to _find her_.”

“She wasn’t where she said she’d be,” Loki replied. “She told me to come after her in ten minutes, and I can’t find her, either. I think she turned off her headset.”

“No ideas where she is, then?”

Loki shook his head. “I didn’t say that. Come with me.”


	74. Chapter 74

In the end, it was Tony who found her. Loki had offered a few places where she might be, but despite Loki’s wanderings and shortcuts, neither one of them knew the helicarrier well enough to do anything but trace their way through endless hallways. By the time they had reached the second level, Loki could see the other man’s frustration. It lurked in the set of his jaw, the too-polite smile he offered to every person as he asked if they had seen her. None had, and many didn’t even know who she was. That troubled Loki more than a little; he couldn’t understand how they could _not_ know her, not when she was twined with SHIELD so tightly that she bled from it.

They split after several minutes to cover more ground. Loki skimmed through the labs, through the lounge, everywhere they had been together, until he finally emerged on the deck of the massive carrier. A slight vibration in his pocket, and he held the headset against his ear as he looked upward, narrowing his eyes against the bright sunlight.

“Where.”

Stark’s voice was equally short.

“Morgue.”

Loki’s hand clenched as his blood turned to ice, and he swore.

Then he ran.

***

Aeslin must have heard him coming. A deaf man would have heard him coming from a mile away, but she gave no sign that she even noticed him. Her forearms rested on her knees, hands dangling loose, and she didn’t even turn her face to the door when he came through. Her head leaned against the metal wall behind her, the look on her face from the briefing room still there as she stared at the ceiling. She looked small and more than a little lost.

Tony spoke, his voice dampened by the heavy silence around her.

“What the hell did they do to you?”

Her eyes flicked to him, then back to the ceiling. “They failed,” she said.

“Yes, they absolutely did. Fury never should have done it. He betrayed you. Failed you. That’s not what I asked.”

“And that’s not what I meant.” She closed her eyes. “The experiment was a complete failure. My underlying genetic instability was supposed to have made everything work, but it didn’t. My body tore the serum to pieces before it could ever do a thing. They thought it was a bad batch, so over the next few years, they tried twice more before they had to stop. Different serum. Different deliveries. Same results.” A gentle scoff. “They even figured out how to monitor me remotely. I never went back to the basement, not until Loki. It was all right out in the open, and nobody knew a thing.”

“Had to stop.”

A humorless smile. “Had to. I went to college. Fury couldn’t come up with a good reason to make me stay anymore, and I started asking too many questions about why he wanted me to.” She pulled her arms closer to her body and scrubbed her palms slowly along the seams of her pants. Tony knelt next to her. He reached out a comforting hand, but something in her face stopped him. His fingers came to rest on the floor between them.

“It’s not your fault,” she said with eyes still closed, “so don’t say what you want to.”

“Someone should,” Tony retorted and was about to add something else when there was a slight skidding noise from the hall; Loki stumbled into the doorway, hand on the frame and face bone-white until he saw Kindle.

“Hate you,” he hissed, his breath ragged as he pointed a slender finger at Tony. “ _Hate_ you.” The other man shoved past him and crossed to kneel in front of Aeslin. She finally opened her eyes as Loki put his hands over hers, stilling them at last.

“Why here, _àstin_?” he asked her quietly, his breath evening out only slowly. “Why come here?”

“I wanted to ask him,” she replied. “Ask him why he did it. Ask him how he knew. Ask him anything at all, but when I got here, he was gone.” She looked at her knees. “They took him.” A small shake of her head. “It’s protocol. He would have gone with the first medevac. They never would have kept him here, not when they thought they might need the room. I knew it. I just… forgot.” A single tear tracked down her face; she didn’t seem to feel it. “I forgot he’s not here.”

Loki’s thumbs stroked along her hands. “He was never down here, little one. Not the part of him that mattered,” he said, and Tony felt a sudden ache in his chest as he understood who she meant, understood in that moment she’d lost almost everything but the castoff god who knelt in front of her, the one cutting himself to ribbons on the shattered bits that were all that was left of what she’d been, and Tony Stark was _done_. He was done with SHIELD and its lies, done with Fury, done with everyone and everything except this cold metal hallway with its orphans and broken things. Enough was enough.

“We’ll tell them,” he said, surprised at the evenness in his voice. “Tell everyone. We’ll blow this thing wide open.”

Her voice was firm. “We’ll do no such thing.”

Tony stared at her, mouth slightly open. Loki seemed unsurprised, his fingers still smoothing along hers, and Stark wondered if this was a conversation they’d already had.

“I’ll talk,” said Tony. “It’s what I do. I’m really good at it. You won’t have to. You won’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to.”

“You won’t,” Aeslin replied. “You won’t because it’s not your story to tell. This is between Fury and me.” Tony felt a tiny stab. _Not Nick. Not anymore._ Kindle went on. “It’s a choice that he made, and it was his legal right. This isn’t about SHIELD. It’s not about experimentation.” She held up a finger to stall Tony’s inevitable protest, and he shut his mouth. Loki smoothly took her hand back, resting it against her leg and resuming his calming pattern in silence, and she went on. Definitely a conversation they'd already had.

“Fury is SHIELD, Tony. There’s no way around it, and that’s why I’m not talking, either. I won’t because if I do, it will make people question him. It will make people question SHIELD, people like Steve and Parker and maybe even Clint and Bruce, and we can’t afford that. After New Mexico? After this? An alien invasion? The world is going to need SHIELD more than ever, and SHIELD needs all the help it can get. It will need people who will be its conscience, to be the voices that will tell them no and mean it. To be what Fury can’t. If people like Steve and Bruce leave, SHIELD is lost. It will become no better than Hydra or the Red Room, and that can’t happen. Not over this. So you won’t say a word, Tony. Not one _word_. It’s not worth the cost.”

“But-”

“Look around you, Tony,” she said. “Who else is going to be able to do it? SHIELD is the first line of defense. Probably the only one. Leave it alone.”

Tony exhaled sharply. “You can’t just expect me to-”

Her eyes were the color of steel. “Between me,” she said, so softly that Tony was briefly and strangely unsettled, “and Fury. Nobody else.  _Leave_ it.”

He dropped his gaze and looked at his hand, still resting on the floor between them. He wanted to reach out and touch her, offer her some comfort, but he settled instead for moving it a fraction closer on the textured metal floor. “Then let me do something else.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” she replied, and once again Tony was cut off mid-thought, this time by an apologetic beep from Loki’s pocket. She smirked a little at the interruption, clearly noticing that Loki hadn’t moved. “You going to get that?”

Loki shrugged and pulled the headset free with one hand, keeping his other on hers as he tucked the thing around his ear like he’d been doing it his whole life. “Yes.” He listened for a few seconds, then tugged it free and handed it across to Kindle. “Romanoff. She wants to talk to you.”

“Which you’re not going to,” Tony said, hoping his voice didn’t carry right into Romanoff’s ear. “You're going to stay right here. You're not going to help them. Right?”

“Wrong,” she replied, taking it. “Kindle.” Her voice sounded almost normal, and Tony had never been so proud of her. “Does it have to be me?” she said. “We do have an infirmary, you know. I’m not the only medic on this boat. Surely there’s-” Kindle stopped, and a tiny wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “Yes.” She tapped Loki’s free hand, and he leaned away as she came to her feet, suddenly all business. “I’m on my way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, the prompt for this chapter is "Precious" by Depeche Mode. 
> 
> àstin: Icelandic term of endearment meaning "love," often used when the one being spoken to is in distress.
> 
> Please leave feedback! Love you guys! (You can also ask questions or fangirl with me on Tumblr. I'm sweetmauleymalloy.)


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nat's confused, which makes her cranky, but that's all right. Nat's got resources.

There was something wrong with Rumlow’s face.

To be fair, there was frequently something wrong with Rumlow’s face, and that was how Natasha liked it best. The more damage there was, the less he talked. He had once misstepped on a mission, opened his mouth at the wrong time and gotten it closed again by a wall of a man with arms like trees. His jaw had been wired shut for weeks, and Natasha had loved every minute of it.

His face was thinner than it should have been. He’d only been gone for a couple of days, but he looked gaunt, even for him. His eyes were sunken a little, and their normal color had faded to a sickening sort of blue. And then there was the matter of the scar.

“It’s not him,” she said to Kindle as the doctor came through the door.

Aeslin wasted no time, for which Natasha was grateful. It was something else they agreed on; chatting was for bars and movie nights and not when the world was crashing down around them, which it frequently did in one way or another. Kindle came closer, straddling the seat next to Natasha.

“How do you figure?” she said before glancing at the screen and whistling under her breath. “Wow. He looks like hell.”

Nat zoomed in the image and pointed to a thin white line that extended along Rumlow’s hairline, right near the temple. “That scar’s new, but at the same time, it’s not. It’s all healed. I’ve never seen it before.”

“Not new.” Aeslin leaned in, running a finger along it. “You can just see it because he’s skinnier and looks like warmed over death. He’s had it for a while.”

“I train with Rumlow almost every week,” Romanoff argued. “I make it a point to get in his face because it pisses him off so much. So why wouldn’t I have noticed that before?”

A faint grin. “Because I am just that damn good at stitches, Sweets. Trust me. We also used some of Helen Cho’s tech on it, just to see what would happen. He was all for being a guinea pig when we told him it would heal about twice as fast. It’s about five months old, and Steve _claims_ it was an accident. Ask him about it, if you want. You were on assignment, if I remember, and he got sent to the Warehouse not too long after you came back.”

Five months ago. Tunisia. It would be about right. Natasha sighed a little. It couldn’t be so easy.

Kindle returned the image to its normal size, but instead of turning away, she watched Rumlow pace back and forth for a minute or so. “Did you really bring me down here to catalog his face?”

“Yeah. Fury said in the briefing that the staff we picked up could make illusions. I looked at Rumlow, and he didn’t seem right, so I thought maybe it wasn’t really him. I wanted a second opinion, and since you’ve got a proven track record...” She trailed off as she glanced over. “So I’m wrong?”

Aeslin’s irises shifted, taking on the deep, fluid silver that Natasha still wasn’t used to. Her friend searched the display with her eyes narrowed a little. “Yes and no,” she finally said. “I can’t really explain; it’s not as clean as Loki’s illusions were. I can pretty much guarantee it’s Rumlow. But I can also pretty much guarantee that he’s not alone in there.”

“In his cell?”

She tapped her temple gently. “In his head,” she clarified, biting the inside of her lip as she thought. “I wish you could see this. Do we have any other information on the staff?”

“Bruce’s theory is mind control. He’s done nothing but study that thing since we brought it and Rumlow back. It would also explain how that thing got him and Selvig to go along without a fight.”

“Has anyone gone in there yet?”

“Not yet. We’ve been running scans, letting him cool his heels. I was going to head in after I talked to you. I didn’t want any surprises.”

“Still might be one or two,” Aeslin replied, and Romanoff nodded as she stood.

“I’m going in, then,” she told her. “Stay here. I’ve got my ears in, so if you see anything before I do, I want to know about it.”

“Got your back,” Kindle said, sliding her chair closer to the display with precision. Romanoff gave her a look.

“When are you submitting your agent application again?” Natasha asked.

There was a strange sort of smile on Aeslin's face. “Probably never,” she said. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”


	76. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Natasha does her job, and Aeslin learns that, in love or not, she might be _just_ a little possessive.

_She rests her arms along the back of the chair, her chin on one hand as she waits for Romanoff to appear in the holding area. She watches Rumlow pace the cell, and the edges around him waver and blur in turns. There is something around him and behind him, something that clings to him like cobwebs, and it makes her eyes hurt worse than Loki’s illusions ever did. She calls a bit more of the magic; the edges of the webs sharpen, easing the ache just a little. There is something familiar in the shadow’s movement, and she immediately thinks of Loki’s monster and the creatures that followed it. Her stomach tightens, not because of the creature itself, but because of a memory. A single glimpse of a figure on a gurney as it was taken from the dark matter lab half a year ago; the image has never really left her. The worst ones never do, she thinks, and then she sees another stretcher, another body, and her carefully constructed numbness begins to collapse once more. She clenches her fingers around the top of the smooth metal chair and wills Natasha to hurry it up._

_A sound from the room downstairs, and her prayer is answered as Romanoff strolls into the bay around the glass cage. Rumlow looks up as Natasha enters. He smiles, and it is the strangest thing Aeslin has seen in a long time. It’s as though the smile begins but the rest of him does not catch up for a second afterward, and then she knows without question that his face is not his own. Not entirely. She reminds herself to thank Loki for at least making his illusions as crisp and clean as they’d been, because this? This is nauseating._

_She watches the two interact like Dobermans at play. She doesn’t pay much attention to what they’re saying; she is here to observe and to catch the things that Natasha cannot. It’s so hard to concentrate, so hard to keep the creature inside her controlled when she is this drained, and she doesn’t want to be in this place anymore. She does not want to stay, does not want to help, no matter what she told Fury. She feels beaten and used and more than a little dirty, and she longs for a scalding shower and clothes that don’t carry SHIELD’s symbol. She wants to strip them off, burn them, perhaps, but she has nothing else except the bloodied sweatshirt in her locker and the boots on her feet. She settles instead for picking at the threads of the logo while she tries to stay focused on the scene before her._

_“Why here?” Natasha is saying. “Why come here?”_

_Rumlow speaks, and now Aeslin realizes that it is not just his face and body. His voice also carries what must be the Other, and she is suddenly glad that Loki agreed to go with Tony instead of coming here._

_“To reclaim what you stole.”_

_“It was given to us centuries ago by another. We had no idea it belonged to your master.”_

_“No matter,” says Rumlow with a shrug. “It was not yours, regardless of how it came to this place. My master commands that I recover the things that have been taken from us.”_

_“Things. You mean the cube, and what… the scepter?”_

_Rumlow sits on the bench. “Not just the scepter. You also have something that belongs to me. Don’t bother denying that he’s with you. I could smell him the second you brought me on board.”_

_Ice begins to creep along her spine, and she knows Romanoff’s body language well enough to know that she also understands._

_“He’s a little different than he was. I doubt he’ll be much use to you now.”_

_“He never was much use,” Rumlow muses. “He tried, I’ll give him that, and it took a little longer to break him than I thought it would. In the end, he was nothing but a pleasant diversion. Something to help me pass the time - little more than a toy.” A slow smile spreads across Rumlow’s face. “But one with which I was not finished. So I’ll have that returned as well.”_

_The ice changes to a slow fire; her fingers twitch. She has never wanted to kill anyone before today, and now this is the second time in as many hours._

_“So what happens if we give it all back?” Natasha is asking, and suddenly it is three times in two hours even though she knows it is only part of the game. It had better be part of the game, because the alternative is unfathomable. A few hours ago she never would have doubted, never would have believed that SHIELD would do something that heinous. But that was then, and the world is different now._

_“Too late, I fear,” comes the reply. “You’ve trifled with things beyond your comprehension, stolen something that is rightfully my master's and something else that is mine. Your impudence will no longer be tolerated; you will become an example to those whom we will visit next. Your world will be a stepping-stone to other realms. An empire with your ashes as the foundation, and you will rest easy in the knowledge that you brought it upon yourselves.”_

_“So we’re to be annihilated.”_

_The Rumlow-thing shakes its head. “No. You are to be conquered. Destroyed in every way there is, and the remaining worlds will stumble in their haste to surrender and avoid your fate.”_

_“Which is?”_

_“Give me five minutes with the princeling,” he says with a lazy smirk, “and I’ll show you.”_

_Something twists inside her; the fire is no longer slow or patient, and as far as she is concerned this interrogation is over. The display cracks neatly across the middle as Aeslin shoves the chair back and heads toward the door, the magic leaping giddily through her veins._

_She has barely made the hallway when there is a series of muffled thumps, and the floor tilts crazily beneath her. She tumbles from her feet, slamming back through the open doorway and catching her face on the edge of a table with a not-so-muffled curse. Sparks explode behind her eyes; she dimly hears the monitors behind her crackling as she briefly loses control. A sharp yank, and she reins the magic back in as she pulls herself to her feet, her head spinning. A glance at the one surviving monitor, and Natasha is nowhere to be seen. Rumlow stands in the middle of the cell with a peaceful expression on his face, oblivious to the chaos. She fumbles for her earpiece._

_“Nat._ Nat _. Answer me.”_

_“I’m clear,” she says over another explosion. “You okay?”_

_“Never better,” Aeslin replies as she dodges sparking wires in the hallway. She keeps her voice light because it is the Warehouse all over again and she suddenly cannot get enough air as she scrambles along the corridor. “Rumlow?”_

_“Shut down a few seconds after the first explosion, just like a switch went off. Stall tactic. We walked right into it.”_

_“System’s compromised.” Hill’s voice comes over the headset. “Engines one and two are down. We’ve also got reports of intruders on several decks. Stay alert.”_

_Parker’s voice breaks across the line, hushed and a little panicked. “We’ve got another problem.”_

_To her credit, Hill doesn’t ask what he’s doing on the line. “What kind of problem?”_

_There is a loud crashing noise in the background, followed by a roar Aeslin's only heard in video files. Parker’s laugh isn’t quite hysterical. “A really big one?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is an AU, my version of the Other, as well as what the scepter can do, has been altered just a little bit. If it gets confusing, let me know and I can give more explanations. However, in this universe, one thing that it allows is for the Other to "talk" through someone else, not just control them like he did in the film. It seemed to me that it wasn't that far of a stretch.
> 
> Feedback appreciated! :)


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a rewind and a different perspective; or: Tony can't talk about what he wants to, so he finds a different topic. It's not much better.

Stark was remarkably silent as he walked next to Loki through the narrow corridors of the helicarrier. He seemed to be deep in thought.

“Why do you hate me?” he finally asked. He kept his gaze forward and his voice casual. “I thought we were, like, a team. We were having a moment or… something. I dunno.”

Loki shrugged. “It was a poor choice of words,” he replied.

“So you don’t hate me?”

“You misunderstand. My choice of words was fine. Yours was not.”

“It was one word.”

“Yes, and it left out valuable information. Would it have killed you to add a few more?”

“Like?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps that she wasn’t _dead_.” His voice rose more than he planned it to, and Stark stopped in the middle of the hallway. They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

“But why would she be-” his voice halted, and Loki finally saw a light go on. “Oh. Oh, _damn_. That explains your face.”

Loki gave him an even look, then resumed walking toward Banner’s lab. He sensed the other man speeding his steps.

“...which was a precious and beautiful thing, by the way,” Stark continued mercilessly as he did his best to match Loki’s strides. “How long have the two of you, you know-”

“We’re not and since never, because it’s not your business.”

“Everything’s my business eventually.”  

“Not this.”

“Come on. I’m invested now, so I’ll find out anyway. Save yourself some time and aggravation. How long? Two weeks? A month? Longer than that?”

Loki exhaled sharply through his nose. “Not in the way you're assuming, and a little over six hours.”

There was a brief silence. “Wow. And I thought _my_ timing was horrific.”

“Shut up. Just… shut up.”

***

The lab looked different when they entered; one of the workstations had been shifted from the corner, and Banner stood in front of it. Parker was in the other corner skimming through sensor information.

Tony, in fact, had not shut up. He had at _least_ moved on from his original topic of discussion, for which Loki was grateful, but his new focus wasn’t much better.

“You need a suit,” he said again.

Loki sighed as they went through the door. “I don’t need a suit.”

“You do,” replied Tony. “You both do. We can even have you two color coordina- or not,” he amended at a stern look. “Everybody has a suit. Even Bruce has a suit.”

“It’s actually just pants,” Banner said a little mournfully. “Never a suit. Never _once_ a full suit.”

“Coordinate with whom?” Parker asked over Loki’s planned question.

“Germ Warfare,” Tony said.

“I thought we’d decided on The Pusher.” Banner folded his arms.

“Blew up on the launchpad,” Parker broke in. “She’s not that kind of doctor, anyway. I seem to recall voting for Major Sparkles.”

“We’ve already got a captain,” mused Tony thoughtfully. “But it could work. Well.” He folded his arms. “It would seem to be a three-way split, so it looks like we’re going to need a tiebreaker.”

Loki stared at the three faces staring back at him. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you?” he finally managed.

“Nope,” said Parker. “I mean, yeah, she says it an awful lot, and we could maybe work it into her costume, but the flow’s all wrong. Plus it’s too late to nominate your own, and may I just say thank you for not being a complete dumbass because you were _killing_ me.”

A blink. “Does _every_ one know?”

“Probably not,” replied the biologist. “I’m sure there are a few people up on the flight deck who haven’t been paying attention, but I’m a Virgo. I can’t help it. We notice things.”

A sudden memory. “And is she also a Virgo?”

“Nah. She’s a Gemini, and boy _howdy_ are you going to have your work cut out for you.”

Banner grinned. “Oil and water?”

“More like oil and matches,” Parker replied gleefully, “and I am _stoked_.”

“I'd probably steer away from green,” Tony went on as if nothing had happened. “We wouldn’t want you to get confused with any other members of the team. Also there's far too much red already, especially once your brother showed up. How do you feel about turquoise?”

“Can we talk about this again, oh, I don't know, _never,_ or have you forgotten that there’s probably an alien invasion coming sooner rather than later?”

“Haven’t, so that’s why we have to hurry. Costumes don’t make themselves. I mean, _mine_ does, but that’s because I’m a genius billionaire and it can basically build itself by now. Hold on. That’s an awesome idea. A suit that builds suits. Why haven’t I thought of that before? It’s _brilliant_. I'd be immortal. _More_ immortal.”

“ _Focus_.”

“Right. So, I mean, what you’re wearing is a good start, but it’s just _blah_. Black on black… it’s been done to death, and you’ve got _such_ potential, kid.”

He didn’t expect the words to hit as hard as they did, especially since he knew that Stark likely didn’t mean them as he took them, but they curled into his brain next to all the others he had collected over the long weeks and months of his banishment.

_Hope comes from the damnedest places._

Loki shook his head a little. “It’s fine. Kindlesdaughter says it’s almost the same material in Romanoff’s suit, so it will stand up to quite a bit of punishment.”

“Barton wears leather,” Parker observed. “That’s also pretty durable.”

Stark turned to the biologist but pointed sharply at Loki. “No way in _hell_ am I putting that man in leather pants on his first time out. There can only be one ubersexy centerpiece to this team, thank you, and I am not competing with a freaking _newbie_.”

“Still standing right here,” Loki said, and Banner coughed gently to cover a laugh. “Can we _please_ talk about something else?”

“Such as?” Stark asked.

Loki shrugged, looking around the room, and his gaze fell on the object Banner’s body had hidden. The Other’s scepter.

“Like _that._ ”

Banner turned around as if seeing it for the first time and then looked back at Loki. “Have you seen it before?”

He thought for a long moment, carefully probing behind his mental walls while doing his best to disturb nothing. “I don’t know. I don’t remember that he ever used it on me, but he may have. There are still large parts missing. I think I’ve seen it, but not in his hands. In someone’s else’s, perhaps.”

The physicist’s face was thoughtful. “Yours? When they first tried to get you to help? You did say they offered you an army.”

Loki could feel his knuckles whitening. “No. Not mine. Never mine. He broke my hands first; I do remember that. I wouldn’t have been _able_ to hold it.”

Banner put a gentle hand on his arm, and Loki clenched his fists tighter to keep from lashing out. “Maybe this isn’t a good time for this,” the other man said.

“I think maybe you’re right, but there’s not _going_ to be a good time, and I’ve already failed once.” He was dimly aware of Parker and Stark quietly watching.

“Take a walk,” said Bruce. “It will still be here in five minutes.” He gave a faint smile. “Go design your suit.”

A deep breath, and Loki took a deliberate step away. “Five minutes,” he said. “That’s all I need.”

Banner nodded.

He had barely made the doorway before there was a massive explosion. The window to the lab blew out, sending Banner and Parker tumbling to the deck below. His ears numb and on the ground with no memory of falling, Loki saw Stark sprawled on the floor a few feet away. A faint yell came from below, and Stark looked at him in alarm.

“Get the geek, then get clear.” Tony barked as he shoved to his feet. “And hurry.”

“Why?”

“Because I think Banner’s suiting up early.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know your timing's bad when even Stark calls you on it. Also the idea of Tony attempting to bond is hilariously adorable to me.
> 
> (Four of my favorite dysfunctional babies in one room. I loved writing this one. Feedback appreciated! You guys are the best! <3)
> 
> (Also I believe that Not That Kind of Doctor, as well as What The Hell Is Wrong With You are perfectly acceptable superhero names. They've got quite a flow to them. Go on, try them. I'll wait.  
> "Hello, I'm Iron Man, and these are my colleagues, Captain America, War Machine and What the Hell Is Wrong With You.")
> 
> (Also also, the moment when Tony tells Loki that he has potential, implying that he believes in him is one of my favorite bits in this chapter. I'm sure in Loki's head he's like "so what doesn't matter it's just Tony" and his subconscious is just like, "You keep thinking that, precious, and I'll just file this away for when you won't admit you need it again.")


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki meets the Other Guy, and we learn that cross country scholarships don't count for jack in the real world.

Stark was out the door almost immediately; Loki pulled himself up from the ground and stumbled over to the shattered window. He peeked over the edge to see a drop of several feet. Parker rested awkwardly in a puddle of metal and broken glass. Banner lay curled close by, his body restless, and Loki went cold. Banner hadn’t talked about the other guy, not exactly. He had merely shown Loki a video while he stood silently next to him, repeatedly taking his glasses off and replacing them seconds later in a slow, rhythmic dance.

Loki was through the remains of the window in seconds, realizing on the way down that he had misjudged the distance. He landed roughly, steadying himself against some of the wreckage, and Parker swore as he did so. A glance showed that his leg seemed caught beneath it. Loki knelt next to him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll get you out. _Both_ of you. Just hold on.”

A sound from Banner, and Loki whipped around. The man was _changing_ , muscles rippling beneath skin that was darkening with every second, and Loki kept his face neutral as he pulled up fruitlessly on the mess trapping Parker.

“I didn’t hear that, Doctor,” he said smoothly, trying to conceal how frantically his fingers were scrabbling on the glass and steel covering the younger man. “Say it again?”

Banner looked at him; his eyes were still human somewhere within the monstrosity, and it was almost the worst thing Loki had ever seen. His voice was nearly unrecognizable.

“I said _run_.” He forced the words through his lips; then his eyes weren’t his any more, and he skittered backward, growing larger with every second.

Loki yanked up as hard as he could, praying that he wasn’t pulling up any of Parker at the same time. The young man whimpered as Loki dragged him to his feet, a litany of prayers and curses flowing seamlessly from Parker’s lips as he stared at the beast before them.

The creature that had been Banner glared back at them for the briefest of seconds, and then it let out a roar that set Loki’s ears ringing again.

“You heard the man,” he said with a calm he didn’t feel, grabbing Parker’s shirt and shoving him in the other direction. “ _Move_.”

***

He wasn’t fast enough. He _ran_ , for hell’s sake. It’s what he did. Varsity cross country, broke records right and left, boxes full of medals, face plastered all over the wall of fame in high school _and_ college, and suddenly it wasn’t fast enough. Running for his life through the guts of a stupid flying _aircraft_ _carrier_ , and the only thing standing between him and something not a man was something once a god but not a man either, and if Parker stopped for one second to think about any of it, he was going to lose his damn mind. He ran instead, feeling something twist in his foot every time he put it down, feeling sparks raining down and an arm beneath his, hearing the creature get closer with every second.

There was a sudden movement against him; Parker felt himself stumble, and he didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that the bastard had _tripped_ him, but then he was lifted off the ground and over a short railing, and at least this fall wasn’t as far. He landed on his back in a maintenance pit. Hell ran past without a second glance, intent on the still-moving prize, and Parker remembered how to breathe.

There was a voice in his ear; he vaguely recognized it as someone in charge. He listened for just a moment, then tapped his earpiece. He could barely hear himself speak and sounded like he was underwater, but someone had to know, or someone was going to get a very nasty surprise.

“We’ve got another problem.”

***

It would have helped if this bit had been on the tour. Loki sprinted through the confusing darkness of the helicarrier hearing Banner getting closer with every second (he still couldn’t think of the other as a monster, not when he had seen his face and shared his table) and hoping that the hole in the floor into which he’d thrown Parker wasn’t as deep as he feared it was. The boy had been getting slower with every step, or Banner was getting faster - it almost didn’t matter - and it had been a last-ditch effort to ensure at least one of them survived. He thought perhaps he should have warned Parker, but he knew the other man would have argued or lectured and there had been no time for it.

He’d always thought the end would go differently. Something at the very least more noble than being chased through maintenance hallways by one who might be a friend when he came to himself again, but the deck was cut, the words carved into the Tree, and if this was the moment his life burned out at last, he wasn’t one to argue. He’d been living on borrowed time for months. He only hoped she’d eventually forgive him for leaving, because he’d shut his mouth at the right time and now there was no promise to be kept or broken except the ones he couldn’t tell her that he’d already made.

Loki didn’t waste time thinking he could stand against Banner. He’d seen the images, seen what he could do without a thought. He ran instead, stringing Banner behind him and hoping against hope that someone on the boat had a plan for this, because SHIELD had plans for everything and everyone whether they liked it or not.

He never stumbled. He was certain of that. Sure on his feet, dodging and sliding through the half-light while he made himself an obvious target long enough for Parker to find better shelter. He never slipped, never once lost his footing, but in the end it didn’t make a bit of difference. Leaping ahead, Banner swiped one massive hand outward and smashed Loki aside like a toy. He hit a wall, tumbling to the ground with the taste of blood already in his mouth. Banner slammed to the wall on the other side, recovering instantly. He gave a low growl; Loki gave an answering one as he used the wall to pull himself up, preferring at the last to die on his feet, not his knees. He bared his teeth. Banner raised a fist again to strike, but it never fell.

A sudden blur of blonde, red and silver, and at last, at _last_ , Thor had come for him. Loki watched as his brother smashed into Banner, sending them both through the wall and leaving nothing but distant bellows and a gaping rent in the steel corridor. In the sudden silence, Loki leaned back against the metal behind him, forcing down a laugh he knew would make his ribs hurt worse than they already did.

“Well,” he said to the hole in the wall. “It’s about damn time.”

He rested for only a moment, catching his breath, and then he pushed away from the wall with one hand, the other against his ribs. Loki made his way back through the wreckage to find Parker, not even bothering to stifle the slight smile that came to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love and comments and kudos! I'm so grateful for them, and so glad you're all here! <3


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos created meets chaos born.

Parker was just coming out of the hole when Loki returned. He offered a hand to the young man, who promptly grabbed it, pulled himself up and yanked Loki into a desperate hug. Startled, Loki returned it for a second or two and then pushed him gently away.

“We need to get moving,” he said quietly. “We can’t linger down here.”

The other man nodded, the blood on his face looking black in the dim lights. He needed medical attention, and the longer Loki stayed in one place, he realized he likely would as well. His ribs ached. Probably not broken, but bruised enough that it might slow him down. Unable to go back the way they had come down, Loki scouted around for another way out of the depths of the carrier. Parker limped next to him, leaning on him only occasionally.

Loki had been listening for any sign of the intruders when he realized Parker was muttering something under his breath. He answered as quietly.

“What?”

“I said astrobiology _sucks_. I should have stayed in theater. I _knew_ I should have stayed in theater.”

Loki found a flight of steps; he was barely paying attention to what he was saying, only interested in keeping Parker’s mind occupied while watching for danger. “Why’s that?”

“Because theater doesn’t try to kill you.”

“Then you’re probably doing it wrong,” he replied absently, putting a finger to his lips as he eased the door at the top of the stairs open. Five armed men a few meters away, facing the other direction and not in SHIELD attire, but in a strange blotchy blue and grey pattern. Three more further down, right between Loki and where he needed to be; the large room ended only a few feet the other way. He let the door close silently again, aware of Parker staring at the back of his neck.

“What is _wrong_ with you, man?”

“Would you like the whole list?” Loki replied before cracking the door again. No change. “Or just the highlights?” His voice was barely audible over the noise of the reeling helicarrier.

“Volume one should do it for now.”

“Mmhmm.” He pawed gently at the astrobiologist’s head without taking his eyes away from the men further down, searching for the earpiece he hoped he was still wearing. His fingers lit on it, and he gently pulled it from the other man’s head as Parker smacked ineffectually at his hand. He handed the thing to Parker as he allowed the door to shut softly. “Find Doctor Kindle, then give it here. _Quietly_.”

***

Aeslin made her way rapidly through the corridors, following the trail of wounded. She stopped every few moments, a word here and a touch there, making sure no one needed help. Most injuries were minor, a few more severe, but none life-threatening, for which she was grateful.

She was surprised only once, skidding around the corner and almost directly into a pair of intruders. One raised his weapon, and she lifted her hand without a thought. Bullets scattered away from her, and as the man looked at her in surprise, she _pushed_ outward. Bodies slammed into the wall of the corridor, and she scooped up both guns as she ran past, tossing them into an empty lab a few meters down and warping the door shut. She concentrated on not thinking about what she’d done, not thinking about how neither one had moved once on the ground. When a beep sounded in her ear, a little too loud, she was grateful for the distraction.

“Kindle,” she said.

Parker’s voice; her knees went a little weak to know he was still alive. “Hold on.”

A brief pause, and then Loki’s voice in her ear.

“May I engage?”

She blinked; the question seemed hideously out of place, especially given their earlier conversation, and then her brain caught up as she realized what he had actually said. It didn’t help much. “Can you _what_?” she managed.

“It’s really just a courtesy,” he continued matter-of-factly. “I plan to anyway, but I thought I’d at least attempt to be polite about it by warning you first. Am I allowed to engage this time?”

“Yes,” she told him, finally understanding what he meant. “You absolutely may.”

“You’re too kind,” he replied, and then she had another thought.

“Wait.”

A brief, impatient noise, like a still-leashed hound with the scent of prey. “Yes?”

“They likely have orders to take you alive.”

There was a brief silence. “ _Do_ they,” he said. There was a thoughtful pause. “Just me?”

“Probably,” she admitted.

“I see,” he answered, and there was something in his voice that made a tiny spot at the base of her spine wonder if perhaps this might be a good time to be afraid of him. “And am I bound by the same orders?”

“No. You’re not.”

A sigh. “Finally.” His voice was almost cheerful, and she felt him slip the leash as there was a slight rustle. She heard Parker’s voice growing louder again in desperate sort of hiss.

“What the hell, man. What the actual _hell-_ ”

“Parker,” she said, then louder. “Parker, what’s going on?”

“Can’t say exactly,” he replied after a moment with reverence in his voice. “But it’s _beautiful_.”

***

_He slips through the door like a shadow, sloughing off the last of the shackles that have bound him. His senses sharpen as he lets the beast out just a bit to test the air. A faint stream of cold from behind him; Parker has left the door open a crack to peek through, and although a small part of him thinks he should tell him to close it, to protect himself from what he might see,  another part knows that this moment is inevitable. Parker will see him for the monster he is, the last illusion blown away like stardust, and if he is half the man Loki believes him to be, he will not care. Loki is chaos incarnate, a warrior blooded for a thousand years, and he will no longer apologize for what he is._

_The first drops without a sound, neck broken, and he slips the man’s knife from its scabbard as he falls. A bulky, awkward thing, but sharp enough for the butcher who bore it and sharp enough for him. Gunshots as his companion whirls, but they whine above him as he lashes out, the weapon crashing to the floor at his feet. He sweeps up a second knife, ugly but well-balanced, and the third goes down, his finger spasming on the trigger and robbing Loki of a kill. Irritated, he whips through the next one, halfway to the second group before they realize what is happening._

_A slide, a strike quick as a serpent; he stabs down and feels blood spatter onto his face and neck. An upward thrust as he regains his feet, warmth on his hand as he shoves the body to the side, and he turns to see the last one sprinting away, fingers fumbling at his collar. The second knife leaves his hand before the other has gone only a few steps, and the man tumbles to the ground with a clatter, his radio skidding away._

_He kneels for just a moment to listen; a whisper of breath. The wound is mortal, he knows, and so with a swift movement, he finishes the job he started, then wipes the knife and his hand on his pants as he comes to his feet._

_“Come out,” he says at last to crack in the doorway. “And hurry.”_

_Parker pushes the door open, his face grey. His eyes are everywhere but the floor as he gives the bodies a wide berth, but he does not shy away when Loki offers him a supporting arm. His voice is quiet._

_“You’re messed up,” the boy merely says with a hint of pride in his voice, and Loki grins, the beast not yet back in its cage._

_“You have no idea.”_

_***_

Thor pulled himself from the wreckage of his battle; the creature that had been Banner was gone, fallen from the sky like a meteor. He stumbled through the hallways looking for a fight, trying to make himself useful, to make up for the mistake he had made, and ran almost directly into Kindlesdaughter. The side of her face was a collection of bruises and blood, and he stopped her.

“You’re injured.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, swaying as she pushed past him in the hallway, and he caught her arm.

“Where are you going? Let me help you.” She stopped and held one hand to her head as if unsure what to do.

“Scepter’s gone. I think they were headed for the detention block.”

“Where?” he asked again, guiding her almost gently to the floor. “Let me help you. You’ve been hurt.”

“I just need a minute,” she said, and Thor gave her a stern look. She glared back at him for a second, finally relenting. “Down,” she replied, gesturing through a door. “Follow the yellow, and just keep going down.”

It sounded more complicated than it ended up being; he took stairs three and four at a time in his haste. The door was open, and he heard voices that ceased as he grew closer. Rounding a corner, he saw the prison. The open door, and the unthinkable.

His brother smiled at him, straightening from the body on the floor near the door of the glass room, the scepter bloody in his hand. The smile remained as he crouched a little, weapon at the ready as Thor came for him.

He passed through Loki like mist, the corpse at his feet dissolving like sand, and he whirled. A man, tired and gaunt but with the glint of madness in his eyes stood next to a panel. Thor took one step, and the trap closed around him.

“All that,” said the man, “and you still don’t trust him.” A skeletal smile, skin pulled too tight along his jaw. “That’s interesting.” A flick of his wrist, a smash of a button, and Thor and the prison dropped into space.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated. I hope the quick switches in POV didn't throw anything off. :)


	80. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief reunion, or Loki's used to battle and what comes with it. Aeslin might not be. The results aren't pretty. (AKA that time that Loki's mouth went off without him. Again.)

The helicarrier gave a final lurch beneath their feet and stabilized at last, and Loki took a long breath. Parker had been giving updates from the information he winnowed out from the overlapping chatter in his earpiece.

“Still down one engine, I think,” the young man said, “but we’re apparently not falling from the sky anymore. Stark and Rogers pulled it off.” He listened for a further second. “One jet’s missing, sweeps for any last intruders. Hill and Romanoff both say we’re clear, but you’ve still got a knife, right? Just in case?”

“No,” replied Loki as he made his way down a more familiar corridor. Natural light was streaming through one of the doorways, and he turned his face to it for just a moment. “But I’ll get another if it makes you feel better.”

“Nah.” Parker shook his head. “It would probably just slow you down.” He fell silent for a few moments and leaned against the wall as he listened, weight off his damaged foot. “We’re supposed to report for triage,” he said after a moment. “Main hangar.”

They left the relatively sunny hallway almost reluctantly and made their way back down a set of stairs to the large hangar. Evidence of a battle was everywhere; scorch marks and ruts in the steel floor told exactly who had fought here. Loki idly wondered how they had gotten this far above where Banner had caught him, but the thought immediately deserted him as he saw a familiar figure kneeling a few meters away.

She turned at Parker’s call and waved them over; they stopped briefly to check in with Hill, who sported a small bandage at her hairline but seemed otherwise uninjured, and then they made their way through the organized chaos to where Aeslin was stationed.

Giving a few last instructions to the young man seated on the blanket, she stood and snapped off her gloves, tossing them into one of the ubiquitous red bins and walking to a handwash station. Aeslin gave them both a weary smile in greeting, then froze as she took in their condition.

“It’s not mine,” Loki said smoothly, almost sure he was telling the truth. She relaxed just a fraction, but the look left her face too slowly, and so he pulled Parker between them like a shield in an only slightly desperate attempt to distract her. “That’s his, though.”

“Ouch,” Parker chimed in helpfully after a nudge in the ribs.

Aeslin looked at them both with a long-suffering expression, inclining her head to a row of blankets on the floor as she dried her hands. “Pick a spot, _both_ of you. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

A faint laugh from Parker as they found adjacent spaces. “ _Busted_ ,” he said cheerfully as he dropped carefully to the blanket, leg stretched out. He lay back with his hands on his stomach and a blissful look on his face.

“Not unless you tell her.” Loki stayed seated, wanting badly to give in to the temptation of a brief rest and knowing full well if he did he wasn’t getting up again any time soon. Instead, he took stock of what was going on around him, the field of wounded a strangely comforting place. He watched Aeslin move on to the next blanket, kneeling next to a young woman, and the sight brought back a memory he had thought long gone. One from Vanaheim, centuries ago, and he found for a moment that he could not look away.

“Tell her what?” Parker asked, breaking into his reverie, and Loki suddenly remembered that he hadn’t seen Banner smash him against a wall.

“Nothing,” Loki told him, giving up and lying back with hands behind his head.

“Liar.”

“Only when it suits me.”

They were interrupted by Aeslin approaching the blankets. She knelt next to Parker with a small kit and pulled on some gloves. He winced a little as she probed the cuts on his forehead. “How’s the foot?” she asked.

“Doesn’t feel broken,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not. It’s swelling, though. I can tell you that.” He indicated the scrapes and bruises along Aeslin’s cheek. “How’s the face?”

“Not too bad. I had someone clean it up, just in case, but it seems cosmetic. Barely hurts at all.” Aeslin rocked back on her heels as she helped Parker to a sitting position. “Medical bays are shot to hell,” she continued as she rummaged through a medical kit. “The only working imagers we have are being used for more urgent cases, so I can’t do as much as I’d like, aside from maybe scaring you up a set of crutches and telling you to keep off it.” She carefully dabbed at the cuts on his forehead. “Just a couple of bad ones. You’ll be back up in no time, by which I mean you are you going sit right here and behave yourself.”

“Medevac?” Parker asked.

“Not yet,” she replied. “Hill’s shut down the airspace around us; we let one jet in, and this happened. With everything else going on, we don’t have the manpower or resources to vet anyone else right now. Carrier’s staying put until we know more, and so is everyone on it.” She stretched bandages across the pair of larger cuts and sat back again. The gloves came off, and she went back to the wash station.

A few moments later, she returned. “What about you?” she asked, and Loki’s resolve to tell her nothing dispersed at almost embarrassing speed.

“Just some bruising, I think,” he admitted as he sat up. “Nothing to worry about. I’ve had worse.”

“Mmhmm.” She seemed unconvinced as she washed the blood from his face.

“I can do that, you know,” he said. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen battle.”

“Mmhmm,” she repeated in that same distracted tone, and he shut his mouth as she scrubbed along his jaw and inspected her handiwork. Leaning in again, she rested her hand on his jacket, working further up, and he hissed when she hit a sore spot on his cheekbone that he didn’t know he had. She pulled back, hands up placatingly, and he smiled a little.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t know that was there.”

She wasn’t looking at him, though. Her gaze had been drawn to the hand she had pulled from his jacket, the glove heavily smudged with blood. Her face was preternaturally calm, but her hand shook as she closed it into a fist. Parker’s voice came from somewhere to his left.

“Good enough,” chirped the younger man. “And now I think it’s time for Loki to go find himself a clean shirt.”

“It’s just going to get dirty again,” Loki replied without thinking as Parker shoved him to one side and reached for Aeslin’s glove, yanking it off and tossing it away.

“I _said_ ,” Parker replied in the same cheerful tone, “that it’s time for you to go find a clean damn shirt while Dr. Kindle and I take a walk. I don’t care where, but I do care when, which is right now.” He glanced at Loki with a stern expression. “ _Go,_ dumbass.”

“You’re broken,” she said numbly as Parker pulled off her other glove and dragged them both to their feet.

“And you’re a superhero,” he said, slinging an arm over her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Come on.”

***

Loki yanked off his jacket with a frustrated sigh as he walked from the hangar, tossing it into one of the red-lined bins as he passed. He’d only been the the requisitions room once by himself, and he wasn’t even sure it was still up and running with the damage to the helicarrier, but he decided to give it his best effort, if only to be able to tell Parker he had. Mentally kicking himself for his idiocy and more than half-worried about her reaction, he thumped up a flight of stairs. He found himself creating arguments, scrambling for reasons that she should be kept safe ( _Safe_ , his inner voice giggled. _That’s delightful. Looked around yourself lately?_ ) on the helicarrier. She wasn’t ready. They hadn’t had enough time. He had only tried to put the finishing touches on something Coulson and Banner had already started, and it wasn’t enough. Never enough.

_Trust her._

Loki leaned against a wall, head bowed. _I don’t know if I can._

_Then trust her rage, idiot. It’s stronger than both of you right now._

He smiled ruefully as he pushed himself straight again. _Check_ _and mate_.

Gathering his bearings, he made his way into the hallway he and Parker had earlier vacated, the sun still shining through the open doors. Taking a staircase and emerging where the room had been, he quickly looked around. It seemed deserted, so he gave a mental shrug and headed back up the stairs, thinking to go to the operations deck or back to the hangar to get more information on what was happening and what was planned, even though he wasn’t sure there _was_ a plan.

Entering the hangar again, he stopped. There was no sign of Aeslin or Parker, but he could see a few figures working their way through the rows of injured. One looked up and gestured to the others, and then a voice came that he recognized as Barton’s. Foregoing the tortuous route, the archer leapt over one bed, then another, much to the chagrin of those on the blankets.

“About time,” he said. “We’d almost given up on you. Follow me.”

Over Barton’s shoulder and through the open hangar doors, Loki caught a flash of red and gold. The other turned around, following his gaze and turned back with a nod.

“Yeah,” he said, already heading toward the entrance. “Stark's gonna need backup. We have to hurry.”

“Where?”

A slight chuckle as Barton took in Loki’s cargo pants and t-shirt. “For a start,” he said, “I was thinking the armory.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So real life has officially blown up in my face, and it ain't pretty. Please send love and good vibes and I'll keep sending you story. Deal? Deal. 
> 
> (I mean, you don't have to. The story will be finished. I'm not going to abandon it. Just know that I'm SUPER fragile right now. <3)
> 
> Weekend coming up, but I do so love the chapter after this one. Let me know if you want it today or Monday. :)


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki and Barton have an understanding, and Rogers realizes that there's more to his new ally than perhaps he gave him credit for.

Loki followed Barton to a section of the helicarrier that had been previously closed off to him. 

“We’re waiting for final confirmation of Stark’s hunch,” the archer said, “but there’s no reason to believe he’s wrong. It makes sense.”

“Where?” Loki asked again, and Barton gave a mirthless smile. 

“Stark Tower. New York.”

It seemed to make sense; it really did, but Loki couldn’t shake a strange feeling that things were coming full circle. 

“Nat’s finding a jet that’s still in one piece,” Barton continued as he took steps two at a time. “Steve’s suiting up, and then he’s going to collect Aeslin, and we’ll be on our merry way.” He shook his head. “We’re going to have to play it by ear after that. I don’t like going in blind, and I like the fact that we’re down two even less. Especially  _ those _ two.”

A sudden ice in his spine. “What do you mean?”

“Banner and Thor. They’re gone. I don’t think permanently, but I’m not sure we can count on them, either.”

“Thor too?” This didn’t make sense. “But how-”

Barton sighed and looked at Loki from the corner of his eye. 

Then he told him.

“I saw the feed myself,” Barton said after a moment. “It was pretty impressive, all things considered, and it happened fast. Still not sure how he knew that would work, though.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because he’s been in my head,” he replied after some thought. “If your Rumlow knows what the Other knows, and he probably does, then I’m sure there’s very little he  _ doesn’t _ know about Thor, unfortunately.”

A canny look from the archer. “Is he still in there?”

“No.”

Barton put a hand on his arm, a little too tight to be friendly. “Are you  _ sure _ about that? Because I am  _ not _ adding anything to this mess, and the last thing we need is you switching sides.”

“I’m sure of it. I stand with you,” he said quietly, “but  _ if  _ that changes, Barton, the  _ second _ it does, I expect you to do something about it.” 

The hand on his arm shifted, and there was a strange understanding in the other’s eyes.

“Fair enough,” was all Barton said, and then his hand was gone and the door to the armory came open. Another grin, and the archer gave an expansive gesture. “Welcome to the candy store.”

***

The aide in the armory was able to tell him exactly where to find what he wanted, and Loki rapidly skimmed the shelves as she stood next to him.

“This one,” he said, hefting the weapon in his hand. “Also these two, and a few of those, if you can spare them.”

“They’re kind of going to waste here,” she admitted. “Not much call for them, to be honest. Take all you need.” 

“Thank you, uh-” he squinted at her badge; if the woman was going to help gird him for battle, the least he could do was ask her name. 

“Riley,” she supplied.

"Riley," he repeated. "Thank you."

“Heads up,” came Barton’s voice, and Loki turned just in time to catch the jacket the archer tossed him. He surveyed the dark, smooth fabric, noting with relief that the SHIELD patch didn’t seem to be anywhere on it. “Second generation,” Barton explained. “It’s what Nat’s got.” 

Riley took his weapons as he slipped on the jacket, then handed them back. He thanked her again as Barton disappeared for a moment, then reappeared with another pair of jackets. He held one up.

“These are kind of stretchy, so you think Aeslin’s a medium, or a…” he trailed off, staring at Loki. “Are you kidding me? That’s it?”

Loki finished strapping the long knife to his thigh, then quickly buckled on the others. “Says the man with the bow and arrows,” he observed with one eyebrow raised. He hooked the pouch to his belt as he straightened. “Are you really going to argue with me about this? It’s enough to get me started, and she’ll probably want the smaller one, but bring them both.”

The archer gave him a faint grin as he hooked the jackets over his shoulder. “We done here, then?”

Loki glanced around, then looked appraisingly at Riley. He took in the nervous smile, the clasped hands, and the blond hair pulled severely back from her too-young face.

“Actually,” he said, “there’s one more thing.”

***

They met again at the entrance to the hangar; Aeslin stood with Parker and Rogers. Barton silently offered her a choice of jackets, and she stared at him for just a second.

“They’re stretchy,” said the archer, a little lamely, and she shook her head with a smile and took the smaller one. She slipped off the SHIELD jacket she still wore, and Loki could see a bit of relief in her face as she did so. Parker took it from her, draping it over his forearm like a valet, and she pulled on the new jacket. 

“All right,” said Rogers. “Move out.”

Loki nodded to Parker; he saluted back with two fingers of his free hand with a half-smile before turning back to the hangar.

Rogers led them through the helicarrier toward the flight deck. Their path took them past the large windows that opened onto the operations room, and Loki saw that Fury was standing in the center of the activity, watching as they went by. He felt Aeslin tense next to him as she glanced through the window, and he rested his fingers in the small of her back as he met Fury’s gaze. 

“Keep it,” he murmured to her, not taking his eyes from the director. “Save it for when you need it.” She turned her head deliberately from the glass as they walked past, her shoulders straight and eyes forward. 

Loki kept his gaze locked with Fury, fire meeting ice, and in the last moment before he passed out of sight, the director looked away.

The Quinjet was already online when they emerged on the flight deck, and they boarded rapidly. Barton went directly to the cockpit, smoothly taking over the controls while Romanoff stayed in the copilot’s chair; Loki and the others stood in the hold, not bothering with seats. Rogers handed them comms, then peered through the cockpit window as if straining for a glimpse of what was coming. After tucking the devices into their ears as instructed, Loki and Aeslin stood further back in relative quiet, facing each other with hands on the jump bars. He had been worried that a return to a jet might set her off again, even though he knew it likely wasn’t the same one, but her eyes were clear and sure as they met his. The change was obvious, and he found himself wondering exactly what Parker had said to her. 

He glanced forward as he tapped his comm off, then reached into his pocket and extracted his final prizes from the armory. She stared at his hand for a moment, taking in the elastic and hair pins. 

“Every advantage,” Loki said quietly. “Every single one. You can’t fight what you can’t see, and they can’t grab what isn’t there. Pull it back.”

She nodded, but as she reached for them, her hand trembled just a little, whether from the jet or from something else. He inclined his head to the nearest seat.

“Never mind,” he said gently. “Just sit down.”

Rogers glanced back after a moment, and then took a longer, more thoughtful look. Loki shot him an answering one.

“Don’t say it.”

“Probably wasn’t going to,” Rogers replied easily. “You’re just full of surprises, that’s all.”

“Lieutenant to the Valkyrie Queen,” Loki answered around a mouthful of pins, “is a high and noble office. It also requires a very specific skill set.” His fingers wove rapidly through the dark silk of Aeslin’s hair, twisting and pinning as he went. He fastened the braided knot as best he could with the unfamiliar elastic band he had talked right off Riley’s head, anchoring it with one last pin. He stroked his thumb idly against the soft skin at the nape of her neck as he surveyed the results.

“It’ll have to do,” Loki said, and Rogers gave a tiny chuckle and turned back to the cockpit window. Aeslin stood, and they resumed their places in the hold. She joined their free hands, her fingers strong and delicate in his, and he kissed her forehead. Dimly, he heard Barton’s voice, then Stark’s answering. He turned his face to the cockpit.

“Come with me,” she said suddenly, so quiet he could barely hear her, and he looked back at her in surprise. “Not now,” she went on. “When this is over.”

“Where?”

Her lip twitched into half a smile. “You say that like it matters.”

He brought her fingers to his lips for a second. “It doesn’t,” he admitted. “Not really.”

“Think about it,” she said, as if he had to. “You don’t have to tell me now. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Later,” he agreed, reactivating his comm, and she did the same.

A sudden warning from Barton, and the jet banked rapidly. Aeslin steadied herself against him, and he looked down and spoke over the sound of the rail gun deploying.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she said, “I think I am.”

He hugged her to him just a fraction. “Stay close,” he told her, and then there was a bang as the jet lurched beneath them, and Loki held on tighter as they tumbled from the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't not, guys. I couldn't wait. 
> 
> Feedback appreciated, as always. <3 Love you guys!


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Laufey's son goes to work.

Barton fought the jet as it fell from the sky, screaming something back into the hold as he did so. Loki heard Aeslin yelling back as she shoved herself away from him. He and Rogers clung to the jump bars as the plane bucked and dropped beneath them, and Aeslin held on with one hand, the other stretched out in front of her. Loki could barely see the mist gathering around her fingers in the bright sunlight streaming through the cockpit window, and at last he could understand what Barton was saying.

“Just like we practiced,” Barton called back, and she winced as the plane jolted and her hand smacked into some equipment.

“We never _practiced_ ,” she shouted to him, exasperation evident in her voice even over the sound of the straining engines.

“Just like we were _going_ to, then,” the archer replied, but she had apparently already caught on, and the plane slowed, though only a little, the curves becoming slightly less jumbled and desperate.

A final drop, a glass building looming through the cockpit window, and a sudden, skidding stop. Barton and Romanoff were throwing off restraints almost before the plane had come to a halt, the rear door already opening, and Rogers led them down the ramp and into chaos.

They made their way down the street, heading toward the now-ruined facade that Loki remembered from the day he had asked Aeslin to take him outside, and he felt a sudden, strange irritation to see it destroyed.

“Incoming,” Stark said into his ear, and Loki turned, pulling his knife from the scabbard in one smooth motion. The world shrunk down to the noise and furor of a battlefield, and Loki felt a predatory smile come to his face. He flipped the knife in his hand, sensing Aeslin slightly behind him. He glanced over to see the mist growing stronger, more visible now.

“Stay close,” he repeated; she nodded, and then Loki stepped forward.

There was no grace in the monsters, no beauty. Only armor and weapons and brute strength, but they bled. They bled; they fell; they died, and that was all he needed to know. Loki had not been in a battle since Thor had dragged him and the others to Jotunheim, the pointless, pride-fueled fight that had started the whole thing in the first place. Before that, it had been over a century, but it was no matter. His body remembered. It remembered everything.

Loki struck like a viper, slipping around and beneath his foes. His hand went to the pouch on his waist, pulling free one of the tiny darts. His aim was true; he sent it into the middle of a group of what Tony had called _Chitauri_. The name meant nothing, even now, and Loki wondered if he had heard it before, and whether it was hidden somewhere in his subconscious. He shook off the thought as he ducked behind a flipped car; the dart exploded on contact, sending the creatures gathered too close together to the street.

He leapt over the car before the last one hit the ground, making his way to where Aeslin knelt against a wall. A nod, and she stood rapidly, looking past him with hands flicking out, and he instinctively dropped into a crouch as twin bolts flew from her fingers, throwing one of the creatures back against another flipped car. The thing didn’t rise again, and he grinned at her as he stood.

A metallic screech drifted down, and he heard Romanoff’s voice through the comm. “Is anyone seeing this?”

His eyes were drawn to the hole in the sky, and through it he could see a creature emerging. It was huge, writhing, and suddenly Lovecraft wasn’t so funny anymore. He glanced over at Aeslin, about to say something, when three creatures dropped from the sky between them.

He acted instantly, a knife back in his hand before he realized it. The first dropped before he had even stepped forward, neck at an awkward angle, and he swept through the second, black blood flying as he yanked his knife free. The third followed suit, clutching its throat as it went down, and Loki kicked its weapon free as it dropped, snatching it overhand from the air. He inspected it as they rapidly made their way back toward the others, the leviathan’s shadow blocking the sun for a long minute. It undulated through the air, shedding Chitauri soldiers like parasites as it went.

He kept his back to her, the stolen weapon in his hands, and it was though they had been fighting together for years. She seemed to know where he would move almost before he did, and he grinned a little to see his and Coulson’s lessons in action as she twisted and dodged, lethal bolts whipping from her hands. He slammed the butt of the rifle into the nearest foe’s face, then spun the weapon in his hands and pulled what he guessed was the trigger. He was rewarded by a blast of blue light and one of the flying craft tumbling to the ground. Loki surveyed the weapon in the relative peace that followed, a smirk on his face.

“Oh, I like this,” he told her. “I like this _very_ much.”

She stepped to the side as another Chitauri corpse landed at her feet. “Good,” she said, glancing at him, cheek already smudged with soot. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re about to get a whole lot more of them.”

They hopped over a pile of rubble. Barton was already talking to Rogers, asking what their next move was. The soldier had started to give orders when there was another flash, and Loki whirled, weapon at the ready, to see his brother landing several feet away. Thor looked at him, his face drawn, and then he dropped his gaze to the ground as he walked past Loki and toward Rogers.

A glance at Aeslin, and she shrugged and followed Loki toward the others.

“-shield around the device is impenetrable,” Thor was saying, and Loki heard Stark agreeing with him through the comm. Rogers nodded, turning at a noise that Loki heard only dimly and didn’t recognize at first.

An engine.

He stared with the others as Banner stopped the small motorcycle. He carefully dismounted, propping the bike on its stand, then stood awkwardly in front of them with his hands in his pockets. More disheveled than usual, he glanced around at the wreckage.

“Well,” he said. “This all looks… horrible.”

A faint chuckle from Romanoff. “I’ve seen worse.”

Banner gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” she replied. “We could use a little worse.”

Stark’s voice came over the comm, and Rogers responded. Banner looked over at Loki with that same, slightly agonized expression. “Sorry,” he said again, more softly. "I’m _so_ sorry.”

Stolen gun resting on his shoulder, Loki merely inclined his head with a faint smile. “No permanent harm done,” he replied, “and I’m glad to see you.”

Banner scoffed. “Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tell him to suit up,” Loki heard Tony say then. “I’m bringing the party to you.”

Another roar from the leviathan, and Loki heard Romanoff mutter something about how she didn’t see how it was a party, but his attention was still on Banner. Rogers told him that it was a good time for him to get angry, and Banner gave that smile again and said that he was _always_ angry; that’s how it worked, and then Loki watched him change again as he smashed his fist into the creature. Its momentum carried it over; there was an explosion, and it toppled lifeless to the ground.

Stark. “Call it, Cap.”

Rogers gave orders rapidly, and before he knew it, Barton was on a roof, Stark and Thor were gone, and the Captain was turning to him.

“Orders?” Loki asked, and Rogers nodded.

“I want you on the perimeter. Barton’s our eyes and ears, and I need the two of you to be his arms and legs. Stark’s got the air superiority, but no matter what he says, he’s still just one person. Your priority will be covering the evacuation. Kill as many as you want, as fast as you want. I’m sure there will be more. Keep them occupied and away from non-combatants, but don’t get too far out. Keep them inside the line. Keep them _here_.”

“Very well.”

Rogers looked at Aeslin. “You’re not a doctor today,” he said. “Not even close. People are going to get hurt, and you’re going to want to stop and help. I know you. Don’t do it. Let them help each other. Do what you can, but don’t let it stop you. Stay focused on your mission.”

“Understood,” she said, her voice calm.

A nod, and Rogers looked up. “Barton. They’re all yours.”

“In a second,” he said. “Let me get a read.”

Aeslin smirked a little. “What, so we’re just supposed to stand here?”

“ _Hell_ , no,” Barton replied. “These things are a hive mind, Doublemint. One of them killed Phil. I know what _I’d_ be doing if I were you two.”

“I like the way you think,” she said.

“Thought you might.” A short laugh, followed by a distant explosion. “Perimeter’s on 39th. Go get ‘em, kids.”

She looked over her shoulder at Loki as she walked to the edge of the bridge. “Ready?”

A sigh. “Doublemint?”

“Don’t ask. At least it’s not the Wonder Twins.”

“The Won-”

Another shake of her head. “Later.” She put one hand on the balustrade with a curious glance.

“Ready,” he finally said, and they leapt over the edge together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated, as always.
> 
> Also, for those interested in a more complete experience, the songs for the last few and the next couple of chapters are "Victorious" by Panic! at the Disco and "My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark" by Fall Out Boy. 
> 
> Also also, I've posted Parker's character sketch on my Tumblr account for anyone who would like to take a look. Find me at sweetmauleymalloy. :)


	83. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thor and Loki have a moment, and Loki loses his temper.

They landed in the rubble beneath the bridge, a brief cushion slowing Loki in the second before he hit the ground.

“Thanks,” he said, and she gave him an answering grin as they were met by a harried, uniformed man.

“You one of them? Guy with the shield?” He glanced at the weapon over Loki’s shoulder with a visible wince.

“Yes,” Aeslin replied, her voice soothing. “We’re here to help.”

A scream sounded from several meters away, and the three of them glanced up as another Leviathan went overhead, armored Chitauri spiraling off to the surrounding buildings.

“After you,” Loki said to her with an expansive gesture. She saluted, gathering magic to her fingers as she stepped forward. She lifted her hand, and the first Chitauri was yanked from the side of the nearest building. A twist of her wrist; the thing fell to the ground, skull already crushed, if Loki was any judge. Other creatures on the buildings screeched at her, a few dropping to the earth, and then all hell broke loose.

After several moments, the officer looked at him. “You gonna help her?”

Loki twirled the rifle in one hand, hip resting on an overturned car. “In a minute.”

The man looked at him as though he’d lost his mind, and Loki smiled but didn’t take his eyes off the carnage in front of him.

“She’s had a bad few days,” he explained. “Don’t know if it will cheer her up, exactly, but I thought I’d give it a try. Plus, it’s really quite an in- oh, hold on just a moment.”

He straightened rapidly, finger already on the trigger, and the Chitauri perched on a ledge with a rifle pointed at her back dropped in a blast of actinic light. He took out the two on the floor higher as an insurance policy, then sat back down.

She rejoined them a few minutes later, and he brushed smoldering debris from her shoulder.

“Better?” Loki asked.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted over Barton’s chuckle in his comm.

The officer stared at her for a second, then reached for his radio and started giving instructions.

Barton’s voice came through. “Keep moving,” he said. “I’ve got activity north of you.”

“On our way,” she replied.

They glanced at the uniformed man; he waved them on, already gesturing to the people crowded at the windows, and Loki re-shouldered his weapon and followed her up the road.

***

They leapfrogged up the streets, following Barton’s leads and pushing the invaders slowly back toward the center. Stark blasted through every few minutes, thinning the numbers as he went, and Loki heard the others talking over the comms, with the occasional roar from Banner in the distance. He had lost his first weapon to a lucky hit, and he was wading in, knives at the ready, to acquire himself a second when every creature around him died in a violent chain of lightning. Thor dropped to the ground a few meters away, stepping over a smoking body on his way to Loki. He stopped within a few steps and regarded Loki warily.

Loki’s returning glare was cool. “Did you miss?” he asked, hearing another creature behind him and whipping around to bury his knife in its face. Kicking the body backward as he slid the blade free, he turned back to Thor. “Or do you plan to try again?”

His brother stood in the same spot, still staring at him. “It wasn’t you,” he finally said, his voice a little numb. “It wasn’t you.”

There was a subsonic thud from Aeslin’s direction, and Loki rolled his eyes as he went toward Thor, shoving him out of harm’s way almost kindly as bodies flew past. “You _think_?” he retorted. “How _could_ it have been? You’d seen me not five minutes before with Banner. Bruce. Hulk. Whatever it is they’re calling him these days.”

A Chitauri soldier landed next to Thor; he smashed it aside with Mjolnir without even glancing over. It flew through a window several feet away, and Loki winced. A brief glance showed the exposed interior was already empty, though, and he relaxed a little. Collateral damage wasn’t a word in Thor’s vocabulary.

“That was you?” Thor looked thoughtful for a moment. “I thought it might have been. I wasn't sure.”

Loki clenched his jaw. It would only figure, after all. “It was. So how could I have been in a prison with a scepter I would have had to retrieve from levels above me within mere moments?”

An embarrassed shrug. “You’re fast?”

Loki slammed his elbow into an oncoming Chitauri with a growl, his patience unraveling in the face of the frustration and adrenaline flowing through every cell in his body. The thing reeled back, Loki’s fingers in its faceplate, and he ripped the metal free, slamming the knife home into the monster’s throat. “Really, Thor? _Really_?” Black blood sprayed, and Loki twisted the blade and yanked back. He threw down the piece of broken armor and wiped at his cheek with one sleeve, not bothered by the fact that he was likely making the mess worse. “ _Mor_ tal, you idiot. A mortal with a set of bruised ribs who had just failed at outrunning Death himself, trapped on a ship that was falling _from the sky_. How _fast-_  hold on-” two more creatures, two more corpses at his feet within seconds- “how _fast_ do you think I am?”

Thor looked at Loki’s feet. “Still pretty damn fast?” he asked with the ghost of a familiar grin.

Loki surveyed the pile of bodies as well, nudging the remains of a Chitauri off his filthy, battered boot with an irritated sigh. “Shut up, Thor.”

The thoughtful look hadn’t left his brother’s face. “So where did you go?”

“Parker,” Loki shot back, louder than he intended. He quieted a little. “I went back for Parker. He needed help.”

“Parker. A soldier?”

“My _friend_.”

There was a strange melancholy to Thor’s face, and he spoke more to Mjolnir than to Loki. “Do you think we could be?”

Another booming thump from behind him; soot and dust rained down. Loki stared at his brother. “Be _what_?”

“You tell me that you are not my brother, and Odin agrees. He has made it very clear. But I thought… I thought, perhaps, that we might at least be friends again.”

Loki suddenly felt very old and very tired as he regarded Thor through the haze of smoke and ash. He wiped his knife on his leg and sheathed it, then bent to tug a rifle free from the tangle at his feet. “We’re on the same Realm,” he said as he straightened once more, “and we fight the same battle. Let that be enough for now.”

“For now,” Thor agreed. A warning in Loki’s ear, and he glanced upward. Thor did the same to see a fresh wave coming through the portal. He looked back at Loki, his gaze apologetic. "I- I need to-"

“ _Norns_ , Odinson,” Loki said with half a smirk and a roll of his eyes. “Just _go_.”

A call of thunder, and Loki was left alone on the ground, blinking against wind-swept dust. Barton’s voice came across his comm just as Aeslin thumped to the ground next to him, her breath uneven and a scorch mark along the back of her jacket.

“How you two holding up?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, more to Loki than to the archer, and he smiled as he told Barton the same.

“Good. Because I’ve got trapped civilians in a building just south of you. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“We’re on it,” Loki replied.

“Negative. _You’re_ on it. I’ve also got a perimeter breach on 39th that’s got Kindle’s name all over it, and I need both of you there thirty seconds ago.”

A small pit opened in Loki’s stomach, but he did his best to keep his face neutral. “Understood,” he told him. He turned to Aeslin, and she gave him a soft smile.

“It’s all right,” she said, tracing her fingers along what felt like the only clean spot on Loki’s face. He nodded, and she went up on her toes, brushing her lips against his. She tasted of dust and sunlight, and the pit got a little bigger.

She pointed to his left. “South,” she told him, and he grinned.

“I figured.”

“Find me when you’re done.”

“Always,” he replied, as he had once before, and her smile got a little more luminous. She turned, breaking into a run. She leapt onto a toppled car, her hands sweeping down as she called the magic once more, sending herself into a long, graceful arc as she vanished from sight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then I looked at my word count and went WHOOPS went crazy and wrote a novel. Oh whale! 
> 
> Feedback appreciated, as always! You guys are the best! <3
> 
> Part of the prompt for the conversation between Loki and Thor is actually taken from _Tombstone_ and draws heavily from the conversation Doc Holliday has near the end of the film.
> 
> (Jack Johnson: Doc, you ought to be in bed. What the hell you doin' this for, anyway?  
> Doc Holliday: Wyatt Earp is my friend.  
> Jack Johnson: Hell, I've got lots of friends.  
> Doc Holliday: I don't.)
> 
> That last line gets me every time. EVERY FREAKING TIME.


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki retraces his steps and comes full circle.

Loki moved rapidly through the streets toward his goal, dropping Chitauri as he went. He warily approached the building Barton had indicated, noting his surroundings. A street he and Aeslin had already cleared, and if his instinct was right, the trapped civilians were some that they had helped to find shelter. He sighed, trying to look at the positive side. At least he knew the fastest way in.

He slipped through an upper window, fingers already opening the pouch at his waist. Only two left. Flicking his finger to set the range, he released the dart through the already-broken glass to clear his way. He followed it through the hole, rifle at the ready. None of the Chitauri had fallen; that hadn’t been his intent. Loki merely needed their attention away from the milling crowd long enough to make his point. He took them out in quick succession, making sure that each was dead before vaulting over the mezzanine and dropping silently to the edge of the group below. He made his way to a uniformed man in the center, one he recognized from before.

“This isn’t working,” he said. “We’ve got to get these people underground. What kind of building is this? Does it have a basement? Vault?”

“I don’t think so,” replied the man. _Inouye,_  his badge read. “But there’s a subway entrance not too far away. I think the National Guard’s moving them down there.”

“Subway.” He felt as though he should remember the word.

“Underground trains. Tunnels. They’ve shut down the tracks, I’m sure. I guess you’re not from around here?”

“No,” Loki answered. “I’m not.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, the idea of even a few Chitauri getting loose in a series of underground tunnels full of non-combatants making him faintly nauseated, if only for the sheer amount of time it would take to clear them out again. He sighed.

The officer seemed to read his thoughts. “Yeah,” he agreed, “but they’ve got guards posted at every entrance. We’re doing the best we can.”

“I know.” Loki gave him a faint smile. “Let’s get them moving.”

He skirted the edges of the crowd, keeping eyes and ears open as he surveyed the damaged building. Several other men joined them, these in the green and brown pattern that Loki was learning to associate with what Inouye had called the National Guard, and they rapidly escorted the civilians to the entrance and off to the tunnels.

Loki turned as the last of the Guard came into main area, a woman in a business suit and bare feet ahead of them. She looked slightly panicked, and he gave her an encouraging smile as he gestured to the door.

“You’ll be safer out there,” he told her. “They’ll get you underground.”

“Run,” she told him quietly.

“I will,” he assured her with a hand on her elbow, planning no such thing. “As soon as everyone is safe. Hurry, please.”

She looked over her shoulder as Loki handed her off to a waiting uniform. “ _Go_ ,” she hissed again, and his brows lowered a little.

There was a sudden movement, and white-hot pain exploded through him as one of the Guardsmen slammed the butt of his rifle into the side of Loki’s leg. Another blow to the base of his spine sent arcs through every muscle, and Loki crumpled to his knees, stomach heaving from the agony. Rough fingers on his head, and his earpiece was yanked free and dropped to the ground. He watched, voice gone, as it was crushed beneath a tan boot that shimmered and writhed into a time-darkened one that he recognized with every fiber in his soul. He opened his mouth, his throat closing off as he gasped for breath.

_No no no nonononononono_

He raised his head, eyes falling on the woman who had tried to warn him, the one that now lay stretched in front of him, light already fading from her eyes. Angry, he tried to push himself up, only to feel a touch of metal on the back of his neck. Colder than death and sharper than a dragon’s tooth, it rested delicately on his skin, unerringly finding the scar he had never been able to explain. Loki stopped, limbs frozen and mind screaming.

The voice washed over him. “Bring him,” it said dismissively, “and send the rest.”

A brief, shooting pain took the breath Loki had been holding, and then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had forgotten how short this one was, so I thought I would post it today, too, to set up for tomorrow's chapter. Hope you like it! :)


	85. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki faces his demons.

_He is not sure when he wakes. He is not even sure he is conscious. His mind is heavy, weighed down by a presence both unwelcome and familiar. He cannot move; he is pinned beneath the pressure of the mind wrapped around him, body numb against the floor beneath him._

_He assumes that it’s a floor. There is a strange, half-remembered cushion between him and the world around him. It wriggles and seethes, and he is almost grateful that his magic is gone. It had made the feeling a thousand times worse, he recalls, the power in his veins pressing against the squirming curtain around him and creating excruciating pain and nausea. Without the magic, it is almost tolerable. Almost. It clings to him, making it impossible to shift his aching limbs, his heart and breath slowed as well. He tries to count the seconds between beats but forgets the words midway through. It’s all right. He doesn’t have the air for them, in any case._

_He takes stock as best he can through the haze, and he is surprised at the detail he can feel. His jacket is gone; Loki feels the occasional wisp of a breeze across his bare arms, and his shirt seems to be untucked. He has been searched, then, and hopefully that is all. He can no longer feel the scabbards on his legs, and he knows that his weapons have been taken. He almost regrets that they have, but he cannot find the energy to do so._

_He forces his eyes open, and a breath or two later, they comply. It is as though he is looking through sea glass; everything is indistinct and warped. He hears the battle in the distance, explosions faint but clear and closer, guttural instructions over the clink of shifting metal._

_He could always hear. He remembers that now, how sound and vision rarely matched, one crystal and one blurry as a storm-drenched window. How his hearing was sharpened, sometimes painfully so, but for now he welcomes it._

_He closes his eyes again and listens._

_He can hear the Other moving, his steps loud on the floor as he paces. There are other creatures around him, perhaps two or three; he can hear their tiny adjustments as they stand sentry._

_There is a sudden sound of movement nearby; he hears the thump of a Chitauri rifle discharging and an answering noise of stone shattering somewhere above his head. Dimly, he feels fragments landing on his shoulders and then on his legs, which he has now determined are folded beneath him as he kneels with back and heels to a wall._

_Another sharp sound, different than the weapons he has heard in the battle, followed rapidly by the crash of a body hitting the wall nearby. The vibration wanders through him like ripples in syrup as he hears the newcomer scrambling to their feet, glass scattering away._

_“Ah,” comes the Other’s voice. “The prince’s plaything.” He chuckles, and it skitters along Loki’s spine. “His little Valkyrie.”_

No.

_He cannot make the word; his mouth has forgotten the shape, but his mind screams it as best it can. At last, a sigh climbs its way free of his lips, losing itself beneath the Other’s words. He tries again._

_“Such thoughts he has of you,” the creature goes on pleasantly, “most of them reeking with sentiment. The others?” He tsks. “Shameful. I’m not surprised he hasn’t mentioned them. I doubt you’d be here if he had.”_

_There is a faint scuff through the debris on the floor as she moves away, but she remains silent. Loki hears the Chitauri on either side of him shift in turn, and he knows they are watching her warily, curiously. He opens his eyes slowly, trying to do the same. She is a blur at the edge of his sight, briefly hidden as she moves past the Other, who stands in front of Loki, image wavering._

_“That’s why you came, isn’t it?” The Other’s voice is patient and more than a little condescending, and Loki dimly sees that it is the creature’s first mistake, because if there is one thing she cannot abide, it is to be spoken to like a child. His second, perhaps, on further thought, because his first may well have been letting her get this far. “That’s what you do, after all, so you came to rescue him. To_ **_save_ ** _him.”_

_“No.”_

_He is briefly surprised that the word has finally passed his lips, and even more so when he realizes that he is not the one who said it._

_The Other laughs again and repeats her word. “No.” He prowls to the side of Loki’s vision. “I see. Another reason, then?” The monster shifts the staff in his hand, and through the murk of what Loki sees, he thinks she shrugs in response as she rights what appears to be a stool. The sentries on either side of him tense but then relax at a sign from their leader._

_“I’m beating the rush,” she says, settling herself on the barstool. “I wanted to make sure I got a good seat.”_

_“Ah,” agrees the Other. “You wish to witness the rebirth of your world. A better choice than the others, I think, who still wrongly believe this is a battle they can win.”_

_“Depends on who you ask, I guess,” she responds. “I might say we’re winning.”_

_“Losing,” corrects the creature. “Already lost, actually, as proven by the fact that I was able to pull two pieces from the board in one move. Your presence here is remarkably unwise.”_

_“Well, for a group of geniuses, we can be surprisingly stupid, I’ll give you that,” she answers. “Not one of us knows how to quit, though, so we’ve got that going for us. Stubborn pains in the ass, and don’t let anyone tell you different. Some more than others, but no. That’s not why I’m here, either.”_

_“No.”_

_“Nope.” Her voice is almost cheerful. “I’m just here to watch him kill you.”_

_A long, low laugh, and the image of the Other swims closer in his vision. “What a delightful idea,” he says, “although I’m not sure how he’ll manage while he’s busy with you.”_

_The scepter lifts, and every cell in Loki’s body tries to climb backward through the wall behind him. He will not be this monster’s puppet. He will die first, if only he can move. There is a strange clarity in his vision as he watches the tip of the staff come closer, the blue light flaring, and then there is a warm, firm pressure on his chest. He holds his breath, and after a long moment, the Other lifts the staff and turns to where she has not moved from the barstool._

_“Perhaps,” he says slowly, “I was mistaken, and you’re not the toy at all.” He looks over his shoulder at Loki, his grin muddy. “Interesting.” Loki can practically hear her eyes roll, but she stays quiet as the Other goes on. “Though I don’t know why you’d bother. He’s not much to look at just now, is he? Lamed. Blinded. Mind almost gone, I’m afraid, but on his knees, at least. Already becoming a fine example as to what the_ **_rest_ ** _of you will be before too long.”_

_“Deaf too, I’m sure,” she says, and deep beneath her voice, Loki can hear that she is tired of dissembling, tired of games, but her tone is calm and even._

_The Other does not answer, and finally the word spills in a faint breath from Loki’s mouth._

No.

_“What happens when he fails to kill me?” the creature asks. “What happens when he lies at your feet, broken and babbling like a madman until he drowns in his own blood? What then?”_

_“I suppose I’ll have a turn,” she replies, and Loki watches through the fog as she airily brushes some loose tendrils of hair away from her face._

_“I admit I’m curious. How might you do such a thing?”_

_She gestures easily in Loki’s direction. “Oh, I guess I would take out those two over there first,” she tells him. “Not sure how, but it would be quick. Kill that one next-” she sweeps her hand across the room, keeping the friendly tone in her voice. “After that, I’ll twist your head a hundred and eighty degrees, maybe more, probably crush your skull on your way down just for giggles, and then we’ll go from there.” She clasps her hands around one knee as she sits primly on the barstool in the middle of the floor._

_“A great deal of violence from such a fragile thing,” the Other replies, a sort of appreciation in his voice. “I’m impressed with you, little Valkyrie, but I’m not sure you have it in you.”_

_“Think what you will and be welcome to it, but you’ve already taken something that was very dear to me,” she warns him gently. “I don’t suggest you do it again.” Loki hears the slide of fabric as she shifts on the tall stool. “But this is all just academic, really. It’s not going to come to that. I’m just the backup dancer, remember? The real show’s over there against the wall.”_

_Another laugh. “What,_ **_that_** _? Look at him, girl. He is broken. He is empty. Stripped. There is barely enough left to make him worth your while, much less mine. He is weak. He is pathetic. He is nothing.”_

_“He,” she says clearly, “is awake.”_

_The Other turns to him dismissively, and Loki can see the smirk on his face when he calls her obvious bluff. He tilts his head back toward her with a patient sigh._

_In that second, a sudden, needle-sharp pain flares through Loki’s right eye, agony rippling through his brain, and in that second, he is free. He is in motion almost before he realizes it, shoving his foot against the wall at his back and ignoring the jolt of fire in his damaged knee. Choking sounds from behind him, and he knows that his sentries will be dead before they hit the ground, as will any others in the room. His only focus is the figure in front of him, and he closes the distance between himself and his tormentor like a wraith. Loki’s hands move nearly of their own accord, and he feels cold skin beneath his fingers as he wrenches the Other’s head to the side, feeling the bones in the monster’s spine shatter. Pain shoots down his own backbone as if in answer, but he keeps moving._

_The creature is falling to the floor, fingers already twitching, and Loki kicks the scepter from his hand, snatching it from the air and slamming the bladed head into the Other’s chest so hard he feels it break through the floor beneath. An answering agony in his own ribs, though not as strong as the one in his back. Black blood bubbles on the thing’s lips, and Loki pulls the blade up, twisting as he goes. A final, swift movement, and then he shoves the body away with his boot, the creature skidding along the floor. The head stays where it is._

_The room is silent but for the harsh sound of his breathing, and as he tries to calm himself, mind draining of shadows and bloodied scepter in his hands, he looks into the face of the thing that would have destroyed him. He almost does not notice it, at first. A glint in the fabric covering the upper half of the Other’s face. The tiny piece of metal is almost completely buried in what remains of the thing’s right eye. His knee screams in protest as he crouches down, tugging at the dark fabric and eventually extracting a single, gore-covered hairpin._

_Loki raises his head to look at her, and to the loose curl of hair that grazes her jawline, defying every one of her attempts to make it stay tucked behind her ear. She remains perched on her barstool, and she regards him across the bodies on the floor._

_“Every advantage,” she says quietly. “Every single one.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 3000 hits, guys! I'm blown away by all the love. Feedcrack appreciated!
> 
> <3


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki faces one final demon.

Aeslin watched as Loki tossed the hairpin to the floor, then stood from the barstool as she tried to slow her heart. It had been a huge gamble. She had seen Loki against the wall, head bowed and body unnaturally at rest. She had seen the webs around him and had thought of Rumlow, but then he had opened his eyes and they were his, the clear blue she knew and not the faded, bloodshot ones she had feared they would be. She had barely heard his whisper below the noise of the creature, and she had acted, hoping that because of his history with the thing, Loki’s prison would be different than the others. She didn’t think of what might have happened if she had been wrong. She couldn’t allow herself that luxury.

He rested for a moment, half-kneeling with one hand on the floor, clearly favoring one leg. She crossed the few steps to him and offered her hand. He looked at it for a second, then took it and pulled himself to his feet, straightening his left knee with some effort. She felt his arm go around her shoulders as he leaned on her, and then his lips pressed against her hair for a long moment.

She tapped her earpiece to turn it back on. “What’s the situation?”

Clint’s voice answered a little breathlessly. “Still ugly. Something weird happened a few minutes ago, like a group hiccup, but then they started right back up again, worse than before. You have anything to do with that?”

“A little,” she admitted, “but not as much as Loki did. The Other’s dead.”

A series of tiny explosions in the background, and the sound of breaking glass. “Guess the hive mind’s all right without a queen,” Barton replied. “King. Whatever the hell that thing was. Is he all right?”

“All right,” she answered, “but not great.”

“I’m not going to lie,” came the archer’s voice over the whip of a bowstring. “It’s a mess out here. You two might want to lay low for a minute or three.”

A faint roar came through her earpiece, and she rolled her eyes. “That’s cute, Barton. Give me a second.”

She pulled away from Loki a little reluctantly as she muted the earpiece. “I need to get back. That thing was right, even if Clint won’t admit it. I think we’re losing, but even if we are, this isn’t the place for me to be.”

“Much as I hate to agree with you,” he said, “I think you’re right.” Letting go of her shoulder, he made his way slowly to what was left of his guards, surveying them critically before going back into that painful crouch and retrieving the less damaged of their weapons. She folded her arms.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” she asked.

He scanned the room. “Over there,” he said, gesturing with the gun to the edge of the ramp Stark used for his landings. “I don’t know the range on these smaller ones, but it should be enough, and you can always use another sniper.”

She stared at him for a brief second, and he gave her that level look he got when he wasn’t interested in arguing. A mental shrug, and she indicated the scepter still held in his left hand. “And what about that?”

“No idea,” he admitted. “Although I wouldn’t suggest using it. I have no idea how the thing even works, and I don’t know that we want to draw undue attention with it.”

He would learn how to work it, given enough time; she was sure of that. It was occasionally alarming how fast he picked things up and how well he adapted to surroundings. She doubted that Thor would have figured out a microwave by now, much less how to run a lab in the Warehouse, but Loki was something else entirely.

Then again, she doubted a lot of things these days, and Thor was the least of them. She shrugged, both to rid herself of the thought and at Loki. “Works for Clint,” she said.

A warning beep, and her fingers went back to her ear.

“I’ve got Selvig,” Romanoff said rapidly. “He says that he built a failsafe into the system, but it needs the scepter. It’s the only thing that can get through. Anyone got eyes on that thing?”

Aeslin glanced over. “Looking right at it, in fact. Where are you?”

“Rooftop, Stark Tower. Where are _you_ , and what the hell, Sparks?”

“Long story,” Aeslin replied. “Stay there. We’re on our way.” She looked at Loki, who was regarding her curiously; she’d forgotten for a second that his comm was in pieces somewhere on the streets below. “New plan,” she said. “We’re headed to the rooftop. Nat’s going to meet us there. Bring the scepter.”

A brief survey of the room; she’d never been in the tower, though Tony had repeatedly invited her and the others to take the tour. She looked up at the ceiling as Jarvis spoke, his smooth tone a strange juxtaposition to the destruction around them. “There’s an emergency stairwell,” said the AI. “You’ll just need to move those plants next to the bar, and you’ll be able to see the door handle. Mind the steps, as they’re quite steep.”

Loki wiped the scepter on his leg, trying to get the worst of the blood off. “Stairs?” he asked, a little plaintively, and the AI spoke again.

“No elevator access to the roof, I’m afraid.”

Loki sighed as he shifted his weight. “Very well. Stairs it is.” He tossed his gun back to the ground and switched the staff to his right hand, draping an arm around her shoulders with a bit of a smirk. She was a bit surprised at the gesture and even more so by how heavily he allowed himself to rest on her.

They had only gone a step or two when she put her free hand on his chest. “Wait,” she said. “I might have a better idea.”

***

Loki felt the familiar cushion as he landed at the edge of the gravel-covered rooftop in front of Selvig’s creation. Romanoff looked up, unfazed, as he approached her, limping badly. He still held the scepter clutched in his hand, and even without his magic he could feel the power it carried. It squirmed and writhed against his palm like an eager puppy, and he clenched his teeth. He had almost lied to her. It was true; he didn’t know how to use it, but the thing recognized him, in its way. It understood him, and it was climbing all over itself to tell him everything it could, to tell him all he needed to do in order to harness it, regardless of the fact that his magic lay in tatters somewhere in the vaults of the All-Father. He ignored it as best he could as he crossed the crushed stone covering the roof.

_-An army to do with as you please. They will come when you call.-_

It would be simple. All he had to do was ask, and the staff would do the rest.

_-Infinite power, son of lies._

_There’s no such thing._

_Perhaps not. But it’s close enough.-_

He tightened his free hand, grinding the fingernails into his palm.

_-I could have done it, Father. I could have done it. For you. For all of us._

_No, Loki.-_

His jaw ached.

- _They will bow to you, little prince. All of them. Just as I will._

_Then I will be a king._

_King? Ah, princeling. You think too small.-_

Loki let out a long breath as he came to a halt in front of Selvig’s creation.

Then he flipped the scepter, fingers just below the blade, and handed the thing to Romanoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently working on the final chapter (which isn't yet). This is a SUPER strange feeling, guys. Feedback appreciated! <3 Thank you for all the love so far! I'm soaking it in like a happy little sponge.


	87. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony saves the world, and Aeslin remembers what physics are.

Aeslin was moving as soon as they landed on the rough gravel on the rooftop. She headed for Selvig, who was propped up against the wall, but as she came closer, she saw the figure nearby. Rumlow, crumpled on the ground near the building. Unable to hear over the noise, she studied him for a few seconds and was only a little relieved when she saw his back rise and fall with even breaths.

“Cognitive restructuring,” Selvig said from the ground, and she looked at him. His smile was tired, ghastly, but his eyes were also his own again. She glanced back to Rumlow, seeing at last that his wrists and ankles were bound together. Nat had been thorough, as usual.

“She’s good at what she does,” Aeslin agreed, kneeling next to Selvig to help him rise.

Selvig laughed. “Which is what, exactly?”

“Classified.”

They stood together, and Selvig stumbled over to his control panel. Aeslin watched as Loki went to Natasha. There was no hesitation in his movements, except for the tiny jolt that went through him every time he put his foot down. He carried himself with a certain nobility, one she’d barely seen since his time in the basement, and he was Odin’s son again, the prince of which she caught only occasional glimpses. She watched his face, though, and where before there had been arrogance and pride, a young god denied his prize, now there was a weight to him. His knuckles were white around the scepter’s shaft, and she felt herself take a tiny breath.

 _He already knows_. The thought came suddenly, and she realized at last what she was seeing.

Loki knew how to use it. He could do anything he wanted. Wield power enough to bring any world he wanted to its knees. Any _realm_ to its knees. She could see it in his face, in the line of his shoulders, the set of his jaw.

He stopped a foot or two from Romanoff, and then, without a second’s hesitation, he handed her the Other’s scepter. His voice was quiet.

“Finish it.”

Romanoff nodded, looking over at Selvig, and Loki took a few steps back, the tension easing away as he put distance between himself and the spy. Selvig was shouting orders, and then she heard Romanoff’s voice in her comm and her free ear both. It was a little disconcerting.

“I can close it,” she said. “Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down.”

Steve’s voice. “Do it!”

“No, wait!” Stark cut across the line. Aeslin put a hand to her ear to listen better, and Loki came closer. She could sense his frustration at not knowing what was going on, and she put a reassuring hand on his arm.

Rogers sounded nearly as frustrated. “Stark, these things are still coming!”

Tony’s voice was oddly calm in return. “I’ve got a nuke coming in. It’s gonna blow in less than a minute.”

Aeslin’s body went cold; Loki made an pained sort of noise, and she glanced over at him. There was worry and curiosity on his face, mingled with a bit of discomfort. She followed his gaze down to his arm but found herself unable to pry her fingers from the smooth skin and the lean muscles beneath. Stark’s voice was dim in her ear.

“And I know just where to put it,” he went on conversationally.

The other voices drifted to the background. Loki’s voice was barely loud enough to hear over the noise around her.

“What’s happening?”

“Nuclear warhead,” she said, and from the way his face blanched, she knew that he had reached at least that far in his study of Midgardian history.

“Here?”

“Less than a minute,” she said. “Stark’s trying to-”

Her words were lost as Tony blasted up the side of the building on a few feet away, and she closed her eyes against a rush of air that almost knocked her off her feet. She opened them again almost immediately, watching the red and gold suit weaving a little to avoid the creatures still coming from the portal. It vanished into the gaping hole in the sky, and she tried not to hold her breath. Loki covered her hand with his.

After a long moment, she heard Barton swear under his breath. “Guys, are you seeing this?”

She dragged her gaze from the portal and looked around, watching as one, then another of the small Chitauri craft fell from the sky.

“They’re dying,” she breathed, her fingers relaxing a fraction on Loki’s arm.

An agonized, metallic shriek came from above them; Loki and Aeslin both looked back up to see a leviathan emerging from the portal. It snapped and writhed for a handful of seconds, its death throes shifting it from its original trajectory. Her eyes went back to his, widening as the realization struck her.

“They’re _dying_.”

She ripped out her earpiece and shoved it into Loki’s free hand, yanking her other hand loose and ignoring both his startled look and his questions. Aeslin didn’t hear Rogers’ order to close the portal, didn’t see the figure tumbling through the sky behind her. Everything fell away as she sprinted to the far edge of the rooftop, drawing magic into already exhausted muscles, and threw herself into space.


	88. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newton's First Law of Motion: Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

Jake McCullough stood in the middle of the street, radio to his ear as he listened to his superiors give orders on the evacuation. They had been speeding it up as best they could; although Jake had been keeping tabs on those that seemed to be helping them, it was clear to everyone on the force that they couldn’t hold back the tide forever. Instead, he and the other police, as well as the Army, had focused their efforts on getting everyone underground. Jake couldn’t think about what might happen next.

He felt like it had been hours, even though he had no real idea how long the invasion had been going on. His muscles ached from the tension, which wasn’t helped by the occasional ball of lightning sweeping past or whatever that green thing was that left controlled devastation in its wake. He had seen others, too, like the two which had helped with the evacuation and covered the retreat. They had ebbed and flowed around each other like two halves of a lethal whole, precision in every movement, and watching them had been a moment of strange beauty in a world already gone mad. He had been almost sorry when the last creature had fallen at the woman’s feet and they had moved away to their next target. He hadn’t seen them since.

Jake glanced up at the building nearest him, where people were still emerging from the stairwells and emergency exits. This evacuation was going slower than he liked; he had almost thought that it would be better to leave the people inside where it was safe, but his instructions had been very specific.

He felt more than heard the explosions in the distance, the chatter in his radio overlapping with the Army, the rest of the force, and the occasional instruction from one of the team helping. He had learned to recognize Captain America’s voice (oh, how his nephew would be jealous), as well as that of the one who called himself Hawkeye (his new personal favorite; he’d never thought a superhero could sound so _normal_ ).

That’s when the first creature dropped out of the sky, crashing to the ground several feet away, and Jake stared. Another fell a few seconds later, then another and another, like the weirdest rainstorm ever, and he heard a barely-controlled voice on his radio. “They’re dying. Whatever they’re doing, it’s working.”

He heard a faint cheer starting, and then an agonized, shrieking howl unlike anything he’d heard before. Jake looked up, hand blocking the sun, to see one of the massive, nightmarish giants twisting in the air high above them, straightening out as it plunged to earth. He followed its trajectory, saw where it was going, and his heart stopped.

 _We’re not clear._ _We’re nowhere close to clear._

Not realizing that he was already screaming the words into his radio, he ran toward the building, knowing he was probably too late. There were too many people, not enough time to get them back into inside or underground, and inside would be a bad idea anyway. Jake could see it coming, imagine one of those monster fins or the tail scraping along the building, maybe taking the half the structure down before it hit the ground, and he felt as though he were wading through molasses as he shoved himself nearer to the crowd. He’d been ten when the towers came down; his dad had gotten food poisoning the night before, had called out sick and lost two of his best friends and his entire company softball team and hadn’t stopped throwing up until long after there was nothing left to lose. Jake remembered. He remembered every second, he and his sister glued to the televisions set up at the school, remembered the way his father had clung to both of them when they’d finally been dropped off at home, and from the way the people in front of him gathered thoughtlessly together like frightened children, they were remembering, too.

He stumbled forward, gesturing wildly. He had no idea what he was shouting. It almost didn’t matter.

Something stopped him in his tracks; he had just begun to push against whatever was holding him when she skidded past him, outstretched boot slowing her and kicking up rocks and broken glass as she went. Writhing silver mist covered her hands and arms to the elbow as she flung them out, and there was a sudden silence and pressure against his chest. He followed her arms up, and he saw that the creature had almost frozen in place. It hung near the edge of the building’s roof, and as he watched, it shifted in a gentle log roll. One fin caught a decorative ledge; Jake winced, but the falling stones stopped as well, clinging to the air around the thing like tiny moons. He looked back at her, mouth open.

The woman whose name he hadn’t yet learned spared a look at him. A vicious bruise covered one cheekbone and disappeared into the hair above her temple, and ash was smeared along her jaw and neck. He took it all in at a glance, but his eyes were immediately drawn to hers. Exhausted, haunted, and glittering pure silver. She spoke in a voice roughened by smoke and blood. A few whispered words, and Jake didn’t want to know how much it cost her to say them.

“Clear the street. _Hurry_.”

His paralysis snapped, and Jake broke into a run. His throat was raw, but he repeated her words in a shout, scrambling for his radio. The Army men caught on first, guiding people back into the building. Jake winced as he saw people looking upward, stopping still as they gaped at the creature hanging above them, and he screamed at the top of his lungs for them to _move_ already. It couldn’t stay up there forever, or even for much longer. He’d seen her face and the way her arms wavered just slightly, as though she braced against a wind no one else could feel. He clutched at the sleeve of one of the soldiers who was also trying not to stare.

“Make them follow,” Jake said roughly, pushing him toward the crowd. “Make them follow. It’s coming down.” He didn’t stop to see if the guy had listened or even heard him; he was already moving across the street to check cars, storefronts, anything that might hide someone that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It might not make sense, but nothing today had, and if the woman was planning to drop what amounted to a whale the size of a 747 onto the streets of Manhattan, he was going to be damn sure she had the space to do it without worrying about casualties.

Jake sprinted, feeling his chest burn and noticing that the thing had crept a little lower to the surface; he wasn’t sure if it was a controlled fall or not, but it just pushed him faster. “Away from the windows,” he was saying into his radio, repeating it like a prayer and not caring who heard him. He ducked to check beneath an overturned food cart. “Inside and away from the windows.” All the time, the thing kept falling in slow motion, starting and stopping.

He nearly punched the man who came up behind him, face half in shadow from the monster’s descent. “That’s all,” said the soldier in the odd quiet that had fallen across the street. “Everyone’s inside. Street’s empty?”

“Yeah.” Jake nodded. “I can’t find anyone else. Get inside.”

The man touched his forehead in a small salute, moving away in a smooth lope, and Jake found himself wondering when exactly he’d been put in charge. He shook off the thought as he ran back down the block toward the woman, hearing a creak over his head as the thing rolled again, coming closer to the ground. Her hands were still up, and she had come further to her feet as though pushing against immovable stone. She glanced at him, sweat or tears streaking the soot on her face; Jake spoke quietly.

“We’re clear. Let it down.”

She looked as though she didn’t completely understand the words, and he took a step closer. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice calm.

“Too much,” she breathed at last. “It’s too much.”

“I know,” Jake replied, even though he knew full well he had no idea and never would. He didn’t want to guess what was behind those words. He didn’t even try; instead he stood next to her in silence. She looked back up at the creature.

“You need to get clear. I don’t know what’s going to happen when it falls.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“You might get hurt.”

He didn’t move. “You won’t let me.” She shut her eyes tightly, and he spoke again. “You’ve done enough. Let go.”

A shudder went through her. She bowed her head and dropped her arms. As though a rope had snapped, the thing fell the remaining distance, slamming to the ground and creating a massive cloud of dust and debris. Jake caught the sight of her hands moving again, and he realized she was guiding the mess away from the windows and pulling it directly toward them. His eyes closed, and he braced himself for what was surely coming, then opened them again almost immediately when he felt nothing. She stood less than a foot away, so close that he could see the rips in her jacket. Her arms were outstretched, head thrown back as though she welcomed the coming devastation, and Jake watched as the smoke, ash and detritus flew by, curving past them like a river around stones. He turned to see it gradually dissipating behind them, a slow grey snowfall coming to earth.

In the silence that fell with it, Jake slowly turned back to the woman. Her eyes were open, the strange color fading away, and she stared for a long moment at the creature in front of them.

Then she collapsed to her knees, hands pressed to her face, and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two today, since the first was shorter and I think this one is a good way to finish out the week. :) Thank you for all the support and comments and love and everything else you guys are amazing and don't let anyone tell you different. <3


	89. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion.

There were definite perks to working for SHIELD. And, thought Selvig as he rested against the ground and stared at the pristine blue sky above him, there were some definite disadvantages.

The result of the scepter touching the Tesseract had been spectacular, to the say the least, and the explosion that followed had thrown him off his feet again. Funny how that had never happened before Fury showed up. He thought further back. No. It had started with Thor. Maybe it wasn’t entirely SHIELD’s fault after all.

A shadow crossed his legs, and Erik raised himself up on his elbows and watched the other man approach him. The intern, but not the intern. Someone different. Someone he'd seen before, and Selvig finally knew where. Laufeyson knelt beside him carefully, his face and neck half-covered in blood, and Erik smiled as he reached out to touch a clear spot on the other’s cheek.

“I knew I recognized you,” was all he could think to say. “You just looked different clean.”

A faint smile. “Most people do, Doctor.”

“After all this? I think we can dispense with formality,” Selvig said with a laugh. “My name is Erik.”

“Loki,” replied the other, and Erik grinned.

“Brother of Thor.”

“Once,” Loki said, offering his hand to help Erik stand, “and perhaps again, but not today.”

Erik wobbled a bit on his feet, and the younger (older?) man pulled his arm around his shoulders. “That sounds like quite a story,” he said as they slowly made their way past where Romanoff crouched over the still-bound and unconscious Rumlow and to the emergency stairs.

“We’ll trade,” Loki said. “Your story for mine.”

“Is that how it works?”

They negotiated the steep stairs like a pair of frightened octogenarians; Loki’s hands were firm on Selvig’s arm, and Erik was glad for both the support and the company.

“Of course,” replied Thor’s once-brother. “It’s what warriors do.”

***

Confirmation after confirmation came through. The things were dead. They had won. The hole was closed, and the invasion was over. Jake heard the chatter through his radio and eventually turned it down a little without taking his hand from the woman kneeling on the street. He rested it on her back, giving an occasional soothing rub. The buildings were emptying as the Army funnelled civilians to safer areas, and Jake was aware of the crowds of people working their way along the sidewalks. A brisk wind brushed down the street, sending up tiny dust devils, and the woman shivered beneath his hand, the sweat cooling on her skin. It wasn’t that cold, but Jake knew shock when he saw it. He fumbled for the zipper on his jacket.

He felt more than heard someone come up next to him. “Stay back,” he said automatically, wanting to shelter the woman and give her as much privacy as he could under the circumstances.

“Here,” was all the other said, and he turned a little to see another woman, business suit wrinkled but still remarkably clean, holding out a coat. He took in numbly, draping it over the kneeling woman’s shoulders. Shifting again, he looked up at the one who had given it to him, unsure of what to say.

“Do you need-”

The woman dismissed him with a wave of her hand, turning back to join the slow line of people trying not to stare as they made their way along the sidewalk. “Keep it,” she said a little brusquely. “I have others.”

“Thank you,” Jake replied to her retreating back. He leaned forward to the woman in front of him, guiding her hands gently into the sleeves. She had stopped crying, but her head and shoulders still sagged, and she refused to move when he offered to help her up. She hadn’t spoken since the few words earlier; she merely shook her head in answer to his question. Jake sat carefully on the street next to her, the asphalt scoured clean by her actions, and replaced his arm on her back.

The noise from his radio washed over him, and Jake became aware of a now-familiar voice. Hawkeye. He inclined his head to the speaker to listen.

“-no response,” he was saying. “She handed off her comm, and we haven’t been able to contact her. Just sending out the word. Got a few worried people on our end.”

Jake thumbed his radio. “Repeat that?” he asked.

“Missing person,” Hawkeye replied. “One of ours. We lost contact with her a while ago. Five-seven, dark hair, black jacket.”

Jake chuckled. “Vicious right hook? Can throw cars with her brain?”

A quiet, answering laugh. “That would probably be the one.”

The woman had lifted her head. She rocked back onto her heels and regarded him silently. “Hold on,” Jake replied. He muted his radio and met her eyes.

“Sounds like you’ve got some people looking for you,” he told her. “Guess you didn’t tell them where you went?”

Her smile was a little crooked, and she spoke softly, her voice a little hoarse. “Didn’t really have time, I’m afraid.”

Jake indicated his radio, and she nodded slightly. He flicked it back on. “She’s here with me,” he replied.

“And where’s ‘here’?”

Jake gave his location, and Hawkeye acknowledged. “Tell her I’m- just a second.” There seemed to be a brief, hushed consultation on his end, and then he came back on the line. “Tell her _we’re_ coming. It’s gonna be a little bit, so feel free to make yourselves comfortable. Maybe order a pizza or something, and keep the line open.”

“Understood.” He had barely signed off when he noticed the woman coming to her feet. He stood with her, a little too rapidly, and she smiled as they both wobbled a bit on the almost-empty street. “He said to stay here,” Jake told her. “Don’t worry. They’ll come for you.”

She grinned slightly; its undercurrent was soft and infectious, and Jake found himself smiling back. “Which is exactly what I’m worried about,” she replied, fastening the buttons on the gifted jacket against the cool breeze. “Stubborn bastard shouldn’t be walking on that leg, and I guarantee he will be. Come on. We’ll meet them halfway. Three-quarters, if we move it.” She brushed uselessly at the torn knees of her pants, then started walking steadily back the way she’d come, exhaustion showing in every step. Jake caught up rapidly, and after a few seconds, he stuck out his hand. She looked at it, still moving, then up at his face.

“We were never properly introduced,” he said. “I figured since you probably saved my life...” he cleared his throat only a little awkwardly under the direct gaze of those strange green eyes. “I’m Jake. McCullough. NYPD.”

The hand she put in his was strong and slender. “Aeslin,” she said. “Aeslin Kindle.” She gave him a wry smile as she looked back at the beast on the street behind them and then at the damaged buildings that stretched overhead. “Architectural preservation.”

***

In truth, Jake was a little sorry that they hadn’t stayed where they were. Some of the streets were more crowded than others, and they worked their way through the organized chaos as best they could. He kept tabs on Hawkeye’s location, and they finally met up on a fairly deserted section of road. Jake looked at the two approaching and realized that the shorter one had what appeared to be an empty quiver on his back; blood streaked down one arm. The other was the one he had seen with her before. Both looked much the worse for wear. Hawkeye sped up to a jog as they got closer, nearly tackling Aeslin into a hug with a goofy grin on his smudged face. She returned the hug gratefully as he spun her around, depositing her back on her feet and aiming her down the block, and then Hawkeye turned to Jake. The archer’s gaze was casual, as though they were meeting in line at a store as opposed to the middle of a warzone.

“Hell of a thing,” he said, and Jake nodded in response. “You the kid on the radio?”

“Yeah,” replied Jake, not even caring what the guy called him, the mere conversation poised to shoot him to superstardom in his nephew’s eyes.

“Everyone okay? You know, with the-” he made a vague pantomime of something large, “whatever it was?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, hoping he sounded smarter than he felt. Maybe just stardom, then. That would still be okay. He glanced over Hawkeye’s shoulder; Aeslin had reached the other man. They stared at each other for just a second, and then the man reached forward and pulled her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin and closing his eyes with a look of something between relief, gratitude and bliss. Jake couldn’t tear his eyes away, and he was glad when Hawkeye’s arm draped roughly around his shoulder, steering him in the other direction.

“It sounded pretty spectacular,” continued the man. “I’m already kicking myself for missing it, so start talking.”

“I should get back,” Jake said lamely. “My guys are going to need help cleaning up the mess.”

“Mess will still be there, and those two ain’t going anywhere anytime soon,” came the reply. “She’ll want to say goodbye, so give them a minute or six.” He sat on what remained of the curb with a soft groan and patted the cement next to him. “Come on, sport. And I want _details_.”

***

Heading back to his rendezvous point, Jake rubbed his thumb across the smooth metal of the arrowhead Hawkeye had given him after extracting it from somewhere inside the depths of his quiver. He’d deactivated it, unscrewing the tip, taking out the insides and tossing them to the middle of the street where they’d exploded like tiny firecrackers. He’d then carefully put it back together, handing it to Jake with a grin as he stood. “Souvenir,” he’d said as he glanced over, noticing the other two coming over. “You’re now officially the coolest uncle ever. You can thank me later.”  

The other man had been even taller up close, and Jake had done his best not to look intimidated as he and Aeslin had approached. His arm had been around her shoulders, and he had leaned on her as he limped.

“Hi,” he’d said. “I’m Jake.”

“Loki,” the other had replied, and Jake hadn’t been able to stop a faintly stupid grin.

“Like the god?” he had asked without thinking, and the other had looked at him a little strangely. Jake had backpedaled, feeling like a complete idiot. “My nephew. He’s doing a unit on mythology, and he won’t shut up about it.” _And speaking of not shutting up..._

Loki had given him a faint grin. “Close enough, I suppose.”

Hawkeye had taken over then, sweeping under Loki’s arm and heading back the way they’d come. Aeslin had stood in front of Jake, hands tucked in her pockets.

“Thank you for being there,” she’d said, and he’d laughed.

“You did all the hard work. I just sort of stood around like a dork.” He’d had to physically keep himself from scuffing his foot. “Kind of like I am now, I guess.”

“No you didn’t, so quit it,” she’d replied with a kind smile, and Hawkeye had shouted back toward them.

“Kindle! Stark wants to know, and I quote, just what in the future perfect hell you did to his wall. That’s apparently a custom piece.” A brief pause, and then he’d continued, voice artificially loud. “Sorry, _was_ a custom piece. My mistake, jackass, and _yes,_ you, Tony. _Kindle!_ ”

She’d rolled her eyes, just a little, like a kid caught in a bit of mischief. “I need to go.”

Jake had laughed. “Me, too.” He’d held out a hand, and she’d ignored it and pulled him into a quick hug. He’d recovered quick enough and managed a simple “See you around.”

She’d already been heading toward the others, and she’d answered over her shoulder.

“No,” she’d said, with that same tiny smirk. “You won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters after this one. SO WEIRD, guys. SO WEIRD.
> 
> Feedcrack appreciated, as always. Love you all!


	90. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki gets himself patched up and talks a little business.

_The corpses are gone, on their way to the incinerators in the depths of the Tower, and he is grateful to see them go. Tony has kept one body, or at the very least the weapons, he guesses, but it is only to be expected. The important one is in the flames; Loki is certain of that. He delivered it himself and watched until there was nothing left but ashes._

_The stains on the floor are covered in bar towels, and Bruce, wearing a sweatshirt at least two sizes too big, is still sweeping glass and stone away. Loki had offered to help, but the other man had just smiled, said something about repetitive motion, and all but shoved him toward a seat. He does not know where his brother is; likely he has gone back to the helicarrier, or perhaps he is somewhere on the streets below, and Loki is only a little troubled by the fact that he is almost too tired to care. They have both survived, and that, for now, will have to be enough._

_He rests his cheek on the bar, eyes closed and ignoring the occasional bump from the various glasses that Tony continues to offer him._

_“I’m fine,” he says again. “Thank you.”_

_“Don’t you guys have a precedent for this?” Stark is relentless, as always. “Meet up after the battle, everyone’s alive, let’s drink ourselves silly?”_

_“I think you have me mistaken for someone else,” he replies into his folded arms as he catalogues the aches in his body beneath the borrowed t-shirt. He’ll have his own clothes again someday, hopefully sooner rather than later._

_“Hold on,” says Stark. “I’ve got it.” Another tiny cup nudged against his elbow, and Loki sighs into the cool stone of the bar. There’s a new, muffled voice, and he lifts his head, eyeing the shot glass blearily._

_Tony is just putting his phone away, and he lifts a matching cup across the bar._

_“_ Skaal," _he proclaims proudly, his pronunciation perfect, and Loki stares at him for just a moment. “Come on, man,” he continues. “Don’t leave a guy hanging.”_

_Barton strolls into the room, a row of tiny stitches along his tricep and another set visible only for a moment until he pulls a shirt over his head. He takes the shot glass Tony passes him and downs the contents in a single gulp, smacking the glass down on the bar a little too close to Loki’s elbow._

_“You’re up, Doublemint,” the archer says to him, and he has almost pushed himself to his feet when Tony loudly clears his throat. The other is watching him, glass still raised, and Loki gives him a faint, resigned smile._

_“_ Skaal,"  _he replies at last, and they drink in unison, a bit of a grin on Stark’s face. Loki flips his glass, dropping it next to Barton’s, and limps off to the makeshift infirmary._

_She’s already got quite the setup. Stark takes care of his own; Loki will give him that. He drops onto the exam table as she turns around._

_“Doctor-not-doctor,” he says cordially, whatever it is Tony gave him skipping his empty stomach entirely and beginning to burn gently through his veins._

_She smirks, just a bit. “How’s the knee?” she asks, her voice taking on what he thinks of as her ‘very professional’ tone, and he mimics it without a thought._

_“It’s all right,” he replies casually. “I’m not worried about it.”_

_Her face is thoughtful. “We’ll get you a brace later, just in case,” she says. “I don’t think I have one here.”_

_He gestures to the large pile of boxes on the cot that’s been pushed against the opposite wall. “Are you sure? It will break his heart to know he missed something valuable in his pillaging.”_

_“It’s all from his own stock,” she tells him, “and this is just what’s left over from what he’s been throwing out the front door to the Red Cross. The man puts Eagle Scouts to shame.” Loki blinks slowly, and she shakes her head. “Be prepared. It’s a… well, never mind. You can look it up later.”_

_“Am I done, then?” There’s a couch on the level below with his name on it, though if Rogers has stolen it in his absence, he’s not sure what he’ll do. He’s already lost one arm wrestle, and though he doesn’t want to resort to emotional manipulation (it’s almost too easy with the man), desperate times call for desperate measures._

_“You’re bleeding. So that’s a no.”_

_“Am I?” he asks innocently, cursing Tony again for his wardrobe selection, but at her too-patient look, he sighs, grabs the neck of the ludicrously bright blue and already stained shirt and pulls it gingerly over his head._

_Her curse is low and fervent._

_“I’ll take that as a complime-” he says in the second before she pokes him a little too hard in the ribs; the words trail off into a strangled yelp._

_“You know, for someone who’s ‘just fine,’ you’re really quite the mess.” Her voice is stern, and he shrugs with the arm that works better._

_“It looks worse than it is. Really.” He follows her accusing gaze to the mass of purple and blue that curls along his ribs and onto his stomach like a stormcloud and to the huge, semi-bleeding abrasion that covers half of his other side, rubbed raw by a blessedly hot shower and the t-shirt. “Or not.” He laughs; it’s almost a giggle, and she blows hair from her face in frustration and turns to her stack of boxes._

_“Not much I can do about the ribs,” she tells him brusquely. “Anti-inflammatories and ice for the swelling, and try not to sleep on that side.”_

_“Duly noted,” he answers, trying without success to inject a little meekness into his tone._

_She turns her attention to what can only generously be called the scrape, and soon there is a gentle coolness soaking along its edges. He watches her silently as she works. Her fingers are sure and quick and soothing as she applies some gel, a bandage and then tapes the edges, and by the time she is finished, he is ready to take them both to the nearest horizontal surface and rid himself of the new, much different ache she’s awakened in him, bruised ribs and everything else be damned._

_There must be something in his face, or perhaps he is not the only one, because she straightens, hands him his shirt without a word and turns away again. He slips it back on with a wince that almost douses the fire in his veins as she passes him a cup with four capsules in it and a bottle of water, telling him to take them with a snack and that she means actual food, not more whiskey. He ghosts a kiss to the top of her head as he thanks her, then heads out the door and back to the others._

***

The lower room was quiet when Loki woke hours later, tangled in fleece and sleeping on the wrong side, if his ribs were to believed. He wasn’t quite sure which side _would_ be right, under the circumstances, and so he wriggled carefully to his stomach, feeling like an awkward caterpillar but unwilling to give up the warm cocoon of the blanket around him. He lurched upward a fraction to reorient his head on the pillow, only then noticing the figure seated in the chair halfway across the room.

Selvig chuckled just a little. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but from the way people talk about you, I somehow thought the god of mischief would be slightly more coordinated.”

“The god of mischief,” he replied with a slight grimace as he tucked his feet back under the fleece, “only works on even days for three hours in the midmorning, and then only if the scones are fresh and the tea is hot with five sugars and a hint of lemon. And before you ask if it’s an even day, the answer is a _very_ firm no, even though I will _also_ gladly admit I have no idea whether it is or not. So, not to put too fine a point on it, but at the moment, the god of mischief is quite emphatically off the clock.”

“Five sugars,” said Selvig. “And I thought I was bad.”

“It’s a big mug. The god of mischief takes his job very seriously.”

Another laugh. “This I see.”

“The god of mischief might also still be a little out of sorts,” Loki admitted after a moment’s thought. “But just a little.”

“It’s the painkillers,” Selvig said, his voice a little fuzzy as he adjusted his own blanket. “She doesn’t mess around.”

“The god of medicine and ass kicking takes many things seriously,” he agreed sagely. “Perhaps more than she should, but I suppose it’s to be expected. She carries a heavy weight.”

“And will the god of mischief help her with that?” Selvig’s look was curious.

Too tired to dissemble, Loki’s answering shrug was lost somewhere in the blanket. “As much as I can, I suppose, though I’m afraid we both have quite a ways to go before we’re through.” He watched Selvig shift in the chair. “Just like you do, I think.”

Selvig looked at his hands, suddenly more subdued. “That… thing,” he said after a minute. “The Other.” He raised his eyes to Loki’s and gestured to his head. “He was in here. All the time. I couldn’t shut him out.” His brows knit. “I heard him die. I _felt_ it.”

Loki’s answer was quiet. “So did I.”

The relief that flooded the other man’s face was heartbreaking to see, but Loki would not look away. After a long moment, a tiny shiver went through Selvig’s hunched shoulders; he started talking as though a switch had been turned on, and Loki did what no one else was able to.

He listened.

He understood.

Because he was the only one who could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up tomorrow: the last chapter, a short epilogue, and author's notes (if'n you're interested). 
> 
> Thank you for all the love and feedback! Y'all are amazing. :) <3


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An offer, and a choice; or, Loki says goodbye.

“Can’t sleep?”

Aeslin turned from the window, wrapping the borrowed Stark Industries hoodie closer around her. She shook her head as Tony came to stand next to her, mug in his hand. Behind them, Loki and Selvig slept heavily, occasionally exchanging faint snores. Stark stared out into a night still lit by beacons as SHIELD worked to clean up what was left of the streets around the Tower.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me neither.”

“Is Pepper coming?” she asked.

“Not now,” replied Stark. “We talked for quite a while though, video chat. She’s going to hold down the fort in Malibu for a few days until I can get home. Besides,” he continued, peering up into the sky, “there’s a pretty strict no-fly zone over Manhattan right now. I didn’t want to ask for an exception.”

“Pretty sure they’d give you one.” She looked over at him. “You of all people.”

He shrugged a little dismissively and took a sip of coffee. “Been thinking, though.”

“About?”

“You,” he said. “Open to suggestions, remember?” He took a breath. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

She regarded him for a moment. “Doing what?”

He kept his eyes out on the city. “Anything you want, up to and including nothing at all. Or call it what it is. I can give you a place to lie low. To hide. To heal. To figure out what you want. Who you are now, after all this.” Tony gestured gently with his mug, taking in the damaged buildings, the buzz of activity below, and the helicarrier that hovered in the near distance, SHIELD logo visible from below and lit up like a Christmas tree. “Once you get all that sorted out, then you can tell me what else you want to do, and I’ll make it happen. Create a position, fund a project, buy an island. Just say the word.”

“You don’t have to do any of that.”

“Damn skippy, I don’t,” he said. “I _want_ to. Besides, I’m a businessman. I know good people when I see them; I’m not afraid to go to ridiculous lengths to get them, and _you_ , my dear, are good people. One of the very best, in fact.”

Aeslin didn’t trust her voice, so she remained silent.

“Think about it,” he went on. “I don’t need an answer now. Probably not until after the first of the year, to be honest. HR is always short-staffed around the holidays, and new hire paperwork tends to give Pepper hives. But come to Malibu. Take your time. Use the leave that I know you racked up with SHIELD. See the Grand Canyon. Go to Disneyland. Whatever the hell you want, and if, by the time you’re done, you’ve decided you’re not interested in my offer, then I’ll send you anywhere you want to go. Bali. Tahiti. Geneva. Cancun. Doesn’t matter.”

He kept his voice casual as he looked over his shoulder at the figure sleeping on the couch. “Just so you know,” Tony told her, “I’m going to be making the same offer to Emo Spice when he wakes up. I figure he quit about the same time you did, if he ever worked for SHIELD in the first place, so he’s free game, too.”

“He did,” she said. “Sort of.”

“It’s a formality, really. He’ll go where you do.” Another pull on his coffee as Stark turned back to the window. “Pretty sure he’d follow you into Hell barefoot, if you asked him.”

“He already has,” she said to the darkness beyond the glass. “And I never had to ask.”

***

_The sky is clear and cold, and as he stands next to Thor, he can almost imagine that they are once again in Asgard. His brother holds the handle of a glass case; within it rests the Tesseract, its glow ebbing and growing fitfully. They watch the others say goodbye, going their separate ways until only a few remain._

_“Father has heard of your deeds,” Thor says. “He wishes you to return. To come home.”_

_Loki smiles, but his eyes are elsewhere. “That’s generous of him,” he replies without rancor. “I suppose it will be just as you experienced? Brought home as a hero? Sins forgiven, magic restored as though nothing happened and gathered lovingly back into the collective bosom of my long-suffering family?”_

_His brother’s voice is troubled. “No,” he replies, and then there a hint of the staunch optimism that Thor will bear until his dying day. “Not at once, I mean. There will be concessions, of course, but surely not permanent ones.”_

_A chuckle. “Thought as much.”_

_“You’d be able to return to the palace as though you’d never gone, welcomed back as a prince. Not the magic, though. Not yet.” Thor smirks, and Loki can see memory in his face. “It makes you too dangerous.”_

_“It’s quite a price to pay,” he observes._

_“But you would be home,” Thor replies. “Think of it, brother.”_

_“I suppose I’m expected to come alone.”_

_Thor follows his gaze at last, to where Aeslin and Parker sit huddled together on a park bench like children planning a particularly involved prank. A relieved smile splits his face, and he shakes his head._

_“Nothing of the sort,” he says, clapping a hand to Loki’s shoulder. “Frigga stands ready to welcome her with open arms, and Father is eager to st-” He stops himself, a gentle panic creeping into his face, and Loki’s voice is almost friendly as he turns to his brother._

_“Well, go on. Finish.”_

_The words tumble out of Thor as though he has been caught doing something wrong. “He is eager to study that which he has created.” At least Thor has the decency to look ashamed. He doubts Odin suffers from the same weakness._

_“Say that to her face,” Loki tells him with a grin that’s only a little malicious. “I dare you.”_

_Thor looks away and back to the two on the bench. “I-” he begins._

_“Double dog dare you, and we’ll go for ice cream if you’re still conscious by the time she’s done. Maybe even if you’re not. My treat.”_

_That earns him a very familiar look.  “I have no idea what half of that means.”_

_Loki shrugs. “Learn as you go,” he says lightly. “It’s not that hard, right?”_

_A scoff from Thor, and then sudden, genuine smiles from both of them. Thor shakes his head, the smile leaving almost as quickly as it came. “You’re not coming, are you.” It’s not a question. “Odin offers you a second chance, and instead, you choose exile.”_

_“No,” Loki tells him. “I choose freedom.”_


	92. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki comes to a decision.

Loki walked slowly toward the bench, his ribs aching a little from the hug Thor had crushed him into in the seconds before he had gone. There had been a brief moment of panic when Loki had wondered if Thor’s plan had been to take him home regardless, but in the end, he had gone with a final smile and a rush of wind. He nodded to Stark and Banner as he passed; they both leaned against a car with arms folded and faces relaxed, but as he went by, Stark bellowed past him.

“Astroboy! Step it up! Plane’s not gonna wait!”

A soft response from Banner as Loki winced, the voice echoing through his head. “It’ll wait.”

Stark scoffed gently. “It’s my damn plane. Of _course_ it’ll wait, but he doesn’t need to know that.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “C’mon, kid! Move out!”

They both stood as Loki approached, Parker looking everywhere but at him. “I suck at goodbyes,” he said in greeting, and Loki shrugged.

“Then lucky for you this isn’t one,” he replied. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon enough. Where are you headed?”

“Medical leave,” Parker said. “I’m going to hang out with my parents for a few weeks. They’ve promised to kick the dog out of my old room, but I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Loki grinned as they strolled back to where Banner and Stark waited. “Give them my regards.”

“Will do. Take care of yourself, man.”

“I will. Same to you.” Loki shut the car door behind him. Stark looked at the two of them over the roof of the car with a conspiratorial grin.

“See you on the other side.”

Another slam of a door, the roar of an engine, and they were gone.

Loki leaned against a tree and folded his arms in the silence afterward, and Aeslin looked at him with a faint smile on her face.

“I’ve got your answer for you,” he said after a moment, tugging at her sleeve to pull her closer. “Spent _ludicrous_ amounts of time thinking it over, I’ll have you know, and after a full ninety seconds of deliberation, I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It’s not going to be easy anytime soon, you know. I’m kind of a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, _elskan_.” He shook his head as linked his hands around her waist. “You’re a _disaster_. A complete, unmitigated disaster, and when it all comes down to it, so am I. We may as well be one together.” He touched her face. “It’ll get worse before it gets better, you know, but it _will_ get better. I promise. And I’ll be there for you every minute, or at least as long as you’ll have me.”

“That might be a very long time.”

He laughed softly and traced his finger along her jaw. “I very much hope so.” Loki straightened, slipping an arm around her shoulders, and her arm curled around his waist as they walked slowly toward the edge of the park.

“So here’s my question again,” he went on. “If I’m to go with you, where are we going? Stark had quite a list of possibilities. Prague. London. Malibu. New Orleans. We’ve a whole realm at our feet, little one. Where shall we begin?”

“Home,” she replied after a moment’s thought. “I want to go home.”

He smiled into the bright morning sun. “Home,” he repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my goodness, guys. I'm a MESS. This is the strangest feeling ever. It's DONE. It's longer than Huck Finn or Wuthering Heights and it's mine and SO WEIRD guys. <3
> 
> Feedback appreciated, as always. Love you all. Author's notes incoming.
> 
>  _elskan_ : Icelandic term that roughly translates to "darling."


	93. Comments, Confessions, and Things Left Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes. :)

First off, thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. This has been a pretty crazy ride. The support and love shown have been awesome, and I’m grateful for all of you and your comments, bookmarks, kudos and everything else. It’s truly made me happy through a pretty difficult time. I’m going to get just a little personal in the next bit, so you can skip it if you’d like.

As a bit of background, I don’t keep a journal. I probably should, and I have at different points in my life, but I got tired of writing journal entries that largely consisted of “well, I’m sad again.” (I have depression, both clinical and situational. I also have anxiety and panic attacks.) So a few years ago, I decided that I wasn’t going to write down what I was feeling. I was going to let my mind wander, do what it wanted to, think what it wanted to, and if I was interested, I would write down what came out of that, instead. (As Wil Wheaton would say), smash cut to summer of last year. I was really far down, really struggling, and every day on my commute to work I would let my mind go for 30 minutes. I realized one morning as I was listening to “Hero” by Chad Kroeger (from Spider-Man) and that I was hearing it as sung not from the hero’s perspective, but from a morally ambiguous villain’s. This story, in a very different form, was born soon after. I don’t know when it became what it did, but I’ve been working on it since early September 2015. It’s a labor of love and a way for me to write something that makes me happy in a time that I’m still really struggling.

Throughout the last few months, I’ve found myself in a place I’ve never expected to be. I’ll spare you the details for my own sanity and the sake of not airing other people’s dirty laundry, but it’s been very rough, and finding an outlet with supportive people has been a lifesaver. (I mean, I’m not ashamed about what’s happening. I’m just trying to be polite? I guess? Whatever.) But again, thank you all for loving what I’ve created. It means a ton.

So now on to the author’s notes!

First off, I feel as though I should confess one thing straight up.

Up until about six weeks ago, Aeslin was supposed to die. I had my reasons for it, and they were pretty good reasons. I even wrote the ending (which I can publish or share if you’d like), but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there were better and stronger reasons for her to survive.

First and foremost? I ship these two dorks so hard it’s embarrassing. I couldn’t break them up, even for just a little while (because you know, MCU and nobody actually STAYS dead even though I thought she probably should. I had nefarious plans for her (that involved more plot holes than I could handle), but it didn’t seem right, no matter how I looked at it.). But wait! you might say. Is this like Harry Potter where since you didn’t kill her, you had to kill someone, and that’s why Coulson died? Nope. Coulson’s been dead since November. It was always meant to happen, which leads me to my next point.

Aeslin’s death would have been the easy way out. She wouldn’t have had to deal with the fallout of her brother’s death. (She sees him as her brother, since he was around longer than both her parents combined and was her family in every way that mattered.) She wouldn’t have had to deal with the fallout of Project Tempest. She wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout from an ex-god accidentally on purpose throwing up on her emotional shoes at just the wrong time because it was all he could think of to do. Loki’s Dante would have no Beatrice; his punishment would become unbearable, and I couldn’t do that to either of them. She’s got to face her demons. There’s no backing out. (This may or may not be a parallel to my own life, and maybe that’s why it’s so important to me. I don’t know. I don’t really want to think about it too hard.) The grief process is hard and ugly and beautiful and messy and there’s no good reason she shouldn’t have to go through it.

Here, I’m going to paste some thoughts I’ve had for several months on where they end up and how it works. One thing I do have in common with Aeslin is that our first degrees were in anthropology/archaeology. I don’t work in that field, currently, but since my early days of college, I’ve been fascinated by the idea of liminal things and people. (Liminal things, for those who aren’t familiar with the term, involve things that are neither one or another. For instance, teenagers. Not yet adults, but not children either. Shamans, if you want to take a more spiritual look. Not of this world, but not of another, either. College students. Babies. Old people. People going through divorce or childbirth. Liminal things involve thresholds and blurred lines.) I don’t work in the field of archaeology or anthropology right now, like I said, but that doesn’t mean my brain doesn’t LOVE it there.

“ _I_ _want them to work out. I really do. Will they? Most likely, but there will be some huge bumps along the way. They’re both seriously damaged people thrown together under very weird circumstances, and that doesn’t make it easy for them._

_Anthropologically speaking, their relationship is extremely liminal. It takes place on thresholds. When they first meet, he has just crossed from the Void to earth. When they meet again, he is in limbo; not quite alive, and waiting to be dead. Then he becomes mortal, but not quite. Then she changes. Then she loses her best friend. Then she learns that, like him, large parts of her life have been based on lies._

_At least for the time being, she is now the more fragile one, and they both know it. She wasn’t entirely stable to start with (no matter what she showed to the outside world) and by the end, she’s been pretty thoroughly jacked up. She feels like she’s in pieces, and he’s the only thing that’s keeping the pieces at least in the same bag. She has powers she doesn’t want; she’s lost both parents and her best friend; she’s been betrayed by a person who was supposed to be her advocate, and she feels as though she basically has nothing left but L and herself. She’s adrift and not sure where to go, and this is completely new for her. Another threshold, but this is one they cross deliberately, and at the same time. Their relationship takes quite some time to mature. They’ve both been hurt very badly in the past, and they also realize that people do strange things under pressure. But they know that it’s more than likely right, and they’re willing to take the time to figure out how to_ **_keep_ ** _it right.”_

I’ve also attempted to make Loki an ever-so-slightly unreliable narrator. One of the reasons (besides the Toad the Wet Sprocket song prompt) that the story is called what it is comes from the fact that he only tells you what he feels are the important bits. That’s why he doesn’t tell you a play by play of the battle of New York. It doesn’t affect him directly. That’s why you don’t get to hear about Maris’ attempts to seduce him, or why he doesn’t talk in more detail about what happened right after Coulson died, such as whether he cried along with her or not, or whether or not they did anything more than sleep. (They didn't. My beta unit wasn't sure, but we talked about it. Just sleep.) It’s not important, or at least, he doesn’t want you to think it is. Her version tells what he couldn’t, and that’s enough for him.

Two of the original prompts for the story were as follows. First, there was an interview I read part of where Loki is described as coming from a place of spiritual desolation. The second was a comment I read in the depths of the interwebs somewhere. "He was humane. He was sympathetic. The Void changed him."

It made me wonder what he was like before the Void. How he was as a person, and how he would have handled the whole mess in Asgard if he'd never fallen, or at least not in the way he did in the films? If he hadn't been handed an army and told to do his worst? What was he when he was just Loki, son of nobody, as it turns out? 

Finally, my work (and everything else about me) relies a lot on music. It’s one thing that can consistently get through to me when nothing else can, and I’ve learned to use it. For your review, here are a few of the songs that heavily inspired this work, with a few notes. (All links are good. No spams. I promise.)

1: _New Divide_ by Linkin Park. This is basically Loki’s journey and their eventual relationship. Here’s the link to the lyric on Google play: [New Divide](https://play.google.com/music/preview/Tgz7gosnvjexmo2uqltqltesxza?lyrics=1&utm_source=google&utm_medium=search&utm_campaign=lyrics&pcampaignid=kp-lyrics)

2: _Moonlight_ by The Piano Guys. Link here: [Moonlight](http://thepianoguys.com/portfolio/moonlight-electric-cello-inspired-by-beethoven/)

3: _Hello/Lacrimosa_ by the Piano Guys. Link here: ["Chello!"](http://thepianoguys.com/portfolio/hello-lacrimosa/) It's because of the following comment by one of the artists: "You’ll hear towards the end of the tune an attempt by both motifs to meet in the middle as the two textured melodies intertwine. In their respective stories both plead for reconciliation. Neither seemed to find it apart, but together they sing about a second chance." (Well, hello, Steven Sharp Nelson. Thank you for mashing a love song specifically for my two dysfunctional brainchildren.)

And some final notes.

If you have any questions or thoughts or comments or just want to know how my brain works, you can leave a comment here, or you can always send me a message on Tumblr. I’m @sweetmauleymalloy.I’m pretty responsive and love to talk and listen.

This particular story is done. Their journey isn’t over; in fact, they’re just getting started. I have quite a few one shots already written, more brewing in my head, and I’d love to share them. (I’d also like some input on HOW to share them, whether in one story with chapters or one at a time in a collection. I’m still fairly new to the world of fanfiction, and I like to work the way people will find it easiest to read and find my stuff.) I will also be taking prompts, or more specifically, what do you want to see? Let me know, and I’ll see what I can do.

Again, thank you all so much for hanging out with me. Love you all! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that green checkmark? Mind. Blown.


End file.
